The Blood of a Hellsing
by Panic at the Beatles Disco
Summary: Integra is captured by a mysterious half-vampire named Sam who is bent on her blood for his own fiendish purpose, while Alucard searches relentlessly for her. Rated T for violence and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

Integra was furious. She was ignoring everyone; Walter, Seras, and even Alucard.

She had just come from a very frustrating conference with the Round Table.

_Perhaps you should find a man to run your organization for a while_, they 'suggested', _you _have_ been running it for a fairly long time_. Obviously, they weren't feminists. _Just give it some thought._ Integra comprehended that it required no thought at all. She would not abdicate her organization to anyone.

Integra sat slumped in the chair in her office, apperceiving that she was forlorn for the evening.

Integra had no idea what she had done wrong according to the Round Table, but apparently they decided to deviate.

She looked around her large office and expected to see a red-clad figure standing in the corner or coming through the ceiling, but there was nobody.

Integra took out a red box labelled 'Hendi Winzermans Fine Cigars,' removed a small brown cigar from the box and lit it. There was nothing more calming than this. Absolutely nothing.

* * *

><p>The Hellsing Organization was quiet. There were no fictitious vampires, no Catholic regenerators, nothing. Just an irritable leader of Hellsing and two bored vampires. There was no activity that anyone was aware of, and in a sense that was good news.<p>

But there was always someone who ruined the silence. Nobody could anticipate the happenings of this evening. It was as if the Round Table had started a chain reaction of distress and grief.

Alucard was walking down the corridor near Integra's office while palavering with Walter.

There was a short silence between them after everything was said, but the silence was quickly annihilated by a vociferous crash emitting from Integra's office. The pair scrambled into the office.

Broken glass from the many windows in Integra's office littered the floor, and instead of the panes of glass there was a dark, black smoke quickly fading away into the darkness of the night.

But the windows weren't the only things missing in the large room. Integra was no longer there.

Walter meandered towards one of the many broken windows and descried a partially used cigar on the ground.

Seras was now standing in the doorway, mouth open and eyes wide.

"W-what happened?" she asked in her high voice. Nobody answered her, and that was expected. There was now silence, but this one other-worldly.

Who or whatever did this left no calling cards, no signs other than the smoke that had now completely vanished.

All eyes were on Alucard. He had known Integra longest (other than Walter) and nobody discerned his reaction.

Alucard tacitly turned and walked away in eerie calm fasion. After he assumed that he was out of ear shot, Alucard let out a rampant scream that was followed by a metallic banging noise as he threw some random object as hard as he could at the wall.

A cleaning crew filed into Integra's office and started sweeping up the glass all over the floor to avert injury.

People were starting to realize the depth of the situation; Sir Integra Hellsing was just kidnapped. Her kidnapper left no traces; she could be anywhere by now from the speed at which she was taken. Nobody knew what Integra's kidnapper wanted; it could have been anything from ransom to pleasure.

"The nerve of some people…" Walter whispered to himself, but Seras nodded in agreement.

It began to dawn on Walter that Integra Hellsing had just been kidnapped. That was a line crossed. But there were no traces left behind, and so the Hellsing Organization was left in the dark. Walter feared for Integra, and hoped that she could be found straight away.


	2. Chapter 2

Integra Hellsing woke up, suspended as if on a cross with her arms out to the sides, hand-cuffed to the walls. On her right arm she was hand-cuffed with an admirable gold pair of hand-cuffs, but on the other arm she was suspended with a rusty and old pair.

She noticed her blazer and ascot were removed and lying across the room on an aged chair.

Integra struggled for a moment, testing the hand-cuffs to see how strong they were. Dismayed at their strength, Integra gave up with her struggles and attempted to remember how she ended up here.

All she could recall was her windows breaking and being seized from behind.

Integra was very uncomfortable, but expected that for having her arms adhered to hand-cuffs.

The walls surrounding Integra were drab and repulsive, obviously not well cared for.

An esoteric door opened in the corner, and a man walked in. He had a sarcastic look on his smiling face, a face that was framed with light brown hair. He had a fairly toned body and looked strong, but against a vampire he would be nothing.

Then Integra noticed his teeth. When you saw vampires as often as she did, one of the first things you apprehended was their teeth. And this man's teeth were sublime.

"Hey there! I thought you would _never_ wake up! You've been sleeping here for hours and hours and I was getting _so_ bored," the man divulged.

He held a red can with the logo 'Coca Cola' up to Integra's face and asked, "Want some?"

Integra surveyed him as if he were insane, and gave him no reply. The man shrugged, took a large swig out of the can, and launched it to the other side of the room.

"So, how're ya doin' dahh-ling?" He asked in a burlesque accent.

"Who are you?" Integra inquired, disdaining his question.

"Who am I…" the man seemed to think for a moment then continued, "Nobody's ever asked who I was before. That's exciting! All right, you may call me… Sam. Just plain, simple, sarcastic, sexy Sam."

"What do you need me for, Sam?" Integra asked politely.

"Hell, what don't I need you for? Well, actually there's just one reason, but I suppose you will find that out… soon. Maybe even later today if it seems promising!" Sam exclaimed over-enthusiastically.

Integra was overwrought on hearing this news, as well as curious.

"You know, I think I'm going to try it now… Yeah! I will!" The instant that Sam finished speaking he removed a shiny silver blade from under his shirt and slashed open Integra's arm, staining her white blouse with scarlet blood. Sam ripped her blouse from the original slash and rubbed his thumb over Integra's wound. The instant his thumb made contact with the injury, it started oozing more blood.

"You know, I heard you never scream. Let's prove that wrong, shall we dahh-ling," he whispered into Integra's ear. Bearing down onto the wound, the instant his tongue came into association with her arm, there was a lightning bold pain in her arm as all the blood in her body was being drawn towards his mouth. Integra let out a surprised and anguished cry.

Sam pulled away, blood soaking his frown. "Don't like that, sweetheart?" he asked softly. Integra provided him with no answer, but instead attempted to regain her lost breath.

Sam licked his lips. "Your blood is amazing. I believe I _will_ keep you for a while. I can just _feel_ rejuvenated already! Damn!"

He turned to walk away and Integra thought, _Alucard will find me. I will be safe._

"By the way," Sam chimed and turned to face Integra again, "Your vampire pet isn't going to be here to save you. And even if he does show up, I have someone standing guard out there who will impale your friend the instant he shows up. And if that doesn't kill 'im, then I sure will, ayup!" Sam let out a shriek of western laughter following his western accent that he had just put on, and then subdued himself. "But let's face the facts," he started again, walking back to Integra, "you wanted something like this to happen. _You_ just want some sort of attention from your nice little bow-tied organization. Isn't that true dahh-ling?"

Integra refused to say anything and Sam just shrugged. He did a small, flamboyant jog across the room and scraped some of Integra's drying blood off her arm, licked his finger while winking at her, and then walked away again, this time he never turned back.

Integra had no knowledge of how long she was poised there, in the desolate room. All she comprehended at the moment was searing pain in her arm.

Integra was hanging from her hand-cuffs, inert for hours until she woke up to somebody slapping her cheeks.

"Wakey, wakey!" Sam crooned into Integra's ear. "Time to get up! Chop, chop!"

Integra groaned in discomfort for now having been suspended by her arms for countless hours.

"Aw, is poor Integra uncomfortable? Well, suck it up princess!" Sam cackled with harsh laughter. "Sorry, dahh-ling but I didn't sleep well last night, knowing that just a few rooms away from mine, there was you, and inside you was sweet, beautiful blood just waiting to be swallowed by me! So, ya sleep well?" Integra shook her head slowly.

"Damn, that's too bad! Well I didn't think that being chained to a wall all night would be very comfortable," Sam walked over to the rusty hand-cuff and pulled on it, "See, if you were strong enough you could break this and then when I came in, you could smack me and attempt to knock me out and hope that I fell into your arms reach where you might find the key to your other hand-cuff."

"Why are you telling me this?" Integra asked coolly.

"Why not, eh? Yeah, buddy!" Sam made a winning gesture like a baseball player getting a home run. "But anyways," he said in a very business-like manner, "I'm going to take a little bit more of your blood now. I'm just giving you a fair warning. You see, I'm smart enough to let your blood replenish a little bit over a couple hours so I don't completely drain you," Sam tapped his brow in an 'I'm so smart' gesture, and slit the semi-healed wound on her arm. He allowed the blood to spill off her arm, and he caught it in an outstretched hand. Bearing his mouth down onto her arm, this time amiably, he seemed to drain all feeling, rest, and blood out of Integra. Now she only felt light-headed.

Sam pulled away, breathing heavily. "Not a drop… of your blood… will be wasted…" he stammered and was striving to keep himself away from her blood. He had a wild look in his eyes, eyes that were eerie and so red they were almost purple.

He licked his lips hungrily.

Integra yearned for sleep now, but she had a very intimate feeling that Sam would not allow sleep.

Integra felt her glasses slipping down her nose, and Sam noticed. He lightly pushed her glasses up her nose. "Better?" he asked nonchalantly.

Integra nodded, almost gratefully, and said, "Thank you."

"Aw, no problem dahh-ling! And don't be afraid, I would never harm you more than you can take it, 'ight?" His voice gradually came to a whisper, and he stroked Integra's cheek before leaving the room.

He came back a quarter of an hour later, balancing three glasses of water and two plates of food.

"See, I don't know what you like to eat, so I thought 'Hey! Everyone likes pizza!' Here, know what? I'll unlock _one_ of your handcuffs so you can eat and drink." Sam did as promised, and the pair was enticed in a few minutes of silent eating and drinking. Integra didn't have enough strength to fight Sam, so she played along with him. After all eating was concluded, Sam locked Integra's arm back up to the wall and left her hanging there once again.


	3. Chapter 3

For hours, nobody had gone anywhere near Alucard because of the series of loud and violent crashes emanating from his gun followed by fierce roars of acrimony.

But eventually the cries of affliction stopped and the loud blasts from Alucard's gun were sounding less and less.

Now, Alucard just seemed lost. He sat in his room, with his head in his hands for countless hours.

Nobody dared to go near him in fear that they may arouse him and he would continue his vicious rampage.

Instead, he sat slumped in his room, with his scattered thoughts of, _they took my master… They took my master…_ And as for who 'they' were, well… Alucard vowed solemnly that he would find out and send them to a place worse than hell.

* * *

><p>Integra woke up again to the sound of Sam waltzing into the room making a great deal of noise as he did so, and saying in a rowdy voice, "Morning, delicious!"<p>

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she thought of her organization and what they were doing to try and find her.

"Sleep well?" Sam asked almost sarcastically. "You always fall asleep after I take your blood and I'm too courteous to drink your blood while you're asleep. I'm a real gentleman!"

Integra glared, and the thought, _you're no gentleman; you're a monster_, passed quickly through her mind.

"Not a gentleman!" Sam cried, looking offended. "Dahh-ling, I'm no monster either, just a creature of the night looking for food so that I can live." Sam grinned, but it was a humourless grin, a grin that revealed what kind of a monster he really was.

Sam's hand twitched towards his pocket and he pulled out his blood-incrusted blade. He stepped closer to Integra, with the insane grin still plastered on his face. Slowly, Integra shook her head and whispered, "No."

Sam paused for a moment and replied, "Pardon?"

"You heard me. No." Sam's eyes widened for a moment as Integra lifted one of her legs to her chest and jolted Sam in the stomach, as antagonistically as possible.

His face reddened with fury as he clenched his stomach.

"You stupid bitch!" he shouted in fury. Sam stomped over to Integra with his blade clutched in his hand tightly. She flinched, afraid of what he was going to do, just as he brought his blade down over his head, not on her arm but just on the base of her neck.

Descending his face onto the wound, he plunged his tongue into the large rip in her skin.

Integra thought that she was going to die, then and there. It seemed as though every molecule in her body wanted to give up and succumb to death. The pain worsened, and Integra was induced in a coughing fit. Sam pulled away, and moments later Integra spat up blood all over her front.

Sam backed away, and called over his shoulder, "Brother! Get her some bandages and medical alcohol. Now!"

Moments later, a tall and burly man burst in, carrying a large box of bandages and an even larger bottle of medical alcohol. He wrapped both the wounds on her neck and arm up (because the wounded arm resumed its constant bleed) and tipped the hat he was wearing cordially in her direction.

Sam grabbed his arm and nearly threw the man out of the room. The burly man walked out of the room with a slight limp, and closed the door lightly.

"My brother's getting up there with age," Sam said as if this was just a casual every-day conversation and he didn't just almost fatally injure Integra. "He must be at least forty. Can I tell you a secret? Great! I want him _dead_. He is such a bother to look after… And he thinks he looks after me! All he does is get me the occasional meal." Sam settled himself on a broken chair in the corner as he told his woeful story.

Integra had known he was capable of many things, in accordance with his unmerciful nature, but to want to kill his own brother for being protective? Wasn't that a little absurd?

"But it's not monstrous you know," Sam continued in his casual, nonchalant tone, "He was always such a pain. I mean when we were in school, he always use to stand up for me, but I'm not eleven anymore, damn it! If he would just go out and have a normal life that would be fine by me and I could go and see him maybe once a month, but no! We've all gotta protect Sam from possible dangers that he could overcome in three seconds!" Sam bolted upright and tossed the chair across the room effortlessly, but it broke into unfixable pieces.

Integra was worried that Sam would wound her badly again and this time, his brother wouldn't be called in to help. So, trying to get rid of Sam for the moment, Integra asked, "Would it be possible for me to get some sleep?"

Sam surveyed her, but stood up and stormed out of the room. Integra heard a cry of pain as Sam most likely did something to his brother, then there was silence, and silence was best for sleeping.


	4. Chapter 4

Integra woke up, with one of her arms unpleasantly positioned across her body. She opened her eyes and saw she was in a nice hotel-like bed.

The blankets were warm and this was by far the most comfortable she had been during this whole ordeal. She closed her eyes for another moment, noticing how soft the sheets were against her legs.

Integra's eyes flew open as she realized her pants had been removed.

"Samuel," She called and Sam burst in, wiping his hair with a light towel. "Samuel, please explain to me what- what you've done with my pants…"

Sam stuck his head out the door and screamed, "Brother! What did you do with Integra's pants?"

A voice called back, "I don't know! You were the one who took them off! I just moved her!"

Integra thought of the worst they could have done to her, with her being asleep in their custody and being magically moved to a bed, and her eyes widened in horrified shock. Sam let out a cackle of laughter and gasped, "Aw, Integra, you didn't think- Aw, we aren't _that _bad that we would do _that_ to you! And besides, then when I try to drink your blood you would be like '_Sam! Why can't you bite like a _real_ vampire?_' Well, I try to please you, and I _try_ to please society but I'm just not as _sexy_ as your vampire, with his fancy sex beams and love bites!" All said in one breath, Sam gasped for air. "But really, we brought you in here because you were having some nightmare, probably about your vampire boyfriend."

He stepped farther into the room, and his eyes brightened as he eyed up a dark article of clothing in the corner. He picked them up, using his thumb and forefinger as if it were contaminated, and threw them at Integra.

"Here you go," he said proudly, as if recovering Integra's pants was the greatest challenge to ever be tackled. Integra looked at him with her eyebrows raised because, with one of her hands hand-cuffed to a bed frame, it was fairly hard to put on one's pants.

"Oh, right," Sam blurted and stepped out of the room, where he shouted, "Brother! Come undo Integra's hand-cuffs for a minute!"

The burly man wended his way into the room, and unlocked her hand-cuff, but looking ashamed as he did so. He headed out of the room while Integra hurried to pull on her pants.

"Where are you _going_, Stanley?" Sam bellowed at his brother. "Come back here, you need to watch Integra. I've gotta go get meself a snack." Sam put on a childish accent that sounded like a pirate, and he waltzed out of the room. Sam's brother, Stanley, meandered back in.

After a few moments, Stanley notified Integra of why they brought her into the room, this time giving a valid answer instead of Sam's story.

"You were screaming and kicking and your wounds all opened up, I thought you weren't going to make it. But you toughed it out. Want a brandy to celebrate? No? Alright, just thought I would ask."

Integra didn't know what they did to all their food and drinks, so she politely refused his offer.

"I'm not like my brother you know. I'm being held here against my will too, or at least I no longer have the choice to leave. Do you want to know how Sam got that way? I'm sure it might help somebody find you if you know, even if it is a fairly disturbing story."

Integra nodded her head. If there was just a glimmer of what Sam's weakness was, she would hear it.

"Alright," Stanley sighed, "It all started when we were in school. Sam was picked on a lot but I stood up for him. Out mom always said I was such a kind soul. She also said that I would age well, like our father. I guess that cued Sam's lust for immortality. Doesn't every eleven-year-old want to live forever?

"So anyways, it was really dark one day. Stormy and cold. We were walking down this alley, and there was this shivering girl. I have to admit it; she was a pretty little thing. But Sam completely fell for her. He brought her home and she stayed late. We never saw her during the day. I was suspicious and she knew it. She didn't trust me."

* * *

><p><em>A little girl was standing on the side of the road, bawling her eyes out. She was told by her parents that whenever she got lost, she should stay exactly where she was and never, <em>ever_ talk to strangers._

_A man in a grey sweater walked up behind her, with his hands in pockets. _

_ "Evening," he said nonchalantly. The girl looked up, eyes wide. He scared her. You couldn't see his face behind the hood, only his eyes. They looked grey in this light. Grey and dead. _

_"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice going high like all voices do when they are talking to children._

_ "I-I'm lost," she sobbed, "But I can't talk to strangers."_

_ "I'm not a stranger," the man bent down beside her and removed his hood._

* * *

><p>"I seemed to lose Sam for a while. It was like he was no longer my brother. Just, well there's no simpler way to put it except that he was now her bitch. At meals he stared into space, or on that rare occasion that he stared directly at you, it was like he was looking through you, at the wall behind you, and the wall behind that one, and so on and so forth.<p>

"She seemed to stay on very late, no matter what my parents said. Sam would fall asleep and she would just sit in his room for hours, and just before dawn, she would leave. Then come back at night. My room was right next to Sam's and the walls were very thin, so I heard almost all of their conversations."

* * *

><p><em>Behind the hood was a man who looked no older than twenty, with a kind face and inviting eyes.<em>

_ "How long have you been here for?" he asked, looking around. The girl shrugged and her bottom lip stuck out._

_ "Come with me," he suggested. "I can help you find your parents."_

_ "No. I can't talk to strangers," she repeated._

_ "Come sweetie, I'll make sure you're with your parents soon enough."_

* * *

><p>"There was one night I remember very clearly. It was late at night and I couldn't sleep and I knew she was in Sam's room still. They were whispering, but I could still hear them clearly. She said 'Sam, I need to tell you something. It's important,' and I heard my brother telling her that he would do anything, absolutely anything. 'I'm not a normal person,' she said, 'I drink blood. I'm a vampire. I was bit many years ago.'<p>

"I couldn't hear much after that moment, only that I was almost certain that Sam was going to die that night. She was almost certainly going to kill him. But then I heard something that just about made me sick, she said, 'I need blood. And bodies. But I need help.' I'm sure if Sam refused, he would have died but, again he said that he would do anything, anything for her."

* * *

><p><em>"If you stay out here, a bad person could get you before your parents do. I'm on your side, sweetie. Just come with me."<em>

_ The little girl looked around. A ways down the street, she saw a tall and shady man walking. He was wearing a big red coat and red hat. He was even scarier than the man standing before her._

_ "Ok, let's go. I want to go home."_

* * *

><p>"I went and told my parents about it very early the next day. I rarely worried. I was a strong person, like my father. I planned to get into politics just like him. So my parents half believed me but they also tried to get me to remember if it was just a dream.<p>

"I knew what I heard and so then I had been reading books upon books about vampires and before I knew it I think Sam started getting food for his girl. Not killing yet, lord no, but maybe just knocking people out so she could kill them while they were unconscious.

"But anyhow, I thought I had to stop it."

* * *

><p><em>"Do you live close to here?"<em>

_ "N-no. I don't know how to get home…" The little girl sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve._

_ "Come, I have a telephone. You'll be home in no time."_

* * *

><p>"I was very worried. I didn't sleep at night; I didn't pay attention in school on the rare occasion that I still went to school. I wanted to keep my brother alive and well.<p>

"My parents started getting so worried for _me_ and I kept telling them that it was Sam they should be worried about. So eventually they decided to listen to me. They talked to this girl and she seemed innocent enough, the fools decided to let the innocent girl go.

"But one night, one really dark night, Sam came home with the girl with blood on both of their hands.

"My parents pretended not to notice, but my father instantly rushed me and my mother outside after the resided in Sam's room. I dunno who he phoned, but not even an hour later, I'm pretty sure you're organization showed up. I can't remember who was currently running it, and they only sent a couple of people, but they got the job done."

* * *

><p><em>"Can you maybe take me to the police?" the girl asked timidly.<em>

_ "No no no!" the man said hurriedly, "No, the police don't know what they're doing. I do."_

* * *

><p>"Told us that Sam was unfortunately killed. Apparently the girl was trying to turn him into a vampire, and they shot him just in case. I knew they lied.<p>

"We were all grieving the loss of Sam, when he stumbled out the front door, as if on his way to school. But his actions were zombie-like. He walked up to us, like every day, but we could see the bloody pair of bite marks on his neck, and he looked up at all of us. Dad always said eyes were windows where you could see the soul. _There was no soul in Sam's eyes._ My dad pulled out a huge silver cross from around his neck and told Sam to never show his face to this family again, to never come back.

"Sam looked hurt and scared, but he ran away. I followed. I couldn't let my own brother be disowned like that. And since then, I had started killing for Sam. My first murder was winter of that year. And then he expected it of me, to kill, to get blood for him."

* * *

><p><em>"Come, I know that a railroad shack doesn't look nice, but I promise I have a phone."<em>

_ "I'm scared. I want to go home!" the girl shrieked._

_ "Hush, child, I'll get you home!" The man snarled with some hostility in his voice._

* * *

><p>"Sam wasn't normal though. I think he's a half-vampire or something. He didn't have the pointy teeth, and claims that as a big disappointment. He also ages, although very slowly. This was years ago, but how old does he look? Just a little younger than yourself.<p>

"Oh God, I wasted my life!" Stanley moaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "If I gave you a gun, would you shoot me in the head?"

Integra had taken all this in, silently judging what she heard, and nodded.

"Thank God somebody would," Stanley sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

A woman came rushing around a corner, purse clutched to her chest, screaming, "Rachel! Rachel where are you?" Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes down the previous tracks of tears, smudging the rest of her make-up.

"Rachel! RACHEL!" The woman sunk down, her silhouette slumped against a brick building. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed, scraping against the wall.

Alucard watched from the shadows, thinking with some bemusement, _so my master isn't the only person missing._

* * *

><p>"Shit, I think I heard Sam outside or something. Come on," Stanley slung Integra's arm over his shoulder and half carried Integra across a hallway into her prison of a room.<p>

Stanley seemed regretful about having to lock Integra back up. Before he left the room, he said to Integra, "I guess Hellsing killed Sam's girl, so Sam's killing Hellsing's girl."

As soon as the door in the corner of her room closed behind Stanley, she heard Sam call, "Brother! Put her in the dining room. I promised her I would get her back to her parents." Integra tried listening to whatever else Sam said, but she couldn't hear through the door. She heard small, choked up sobs coming from outside the room and she wondered who could be out there.

Outside her room, Stanley had just closed the door to their makeshift dining room, where he left the little girl.

"Sam," he whispered furiously, "she's a small child! Just let her go. Get her home."

Sam turned to his brother with fury in his eyes.

"Don't deprive me of my chance to taste adolescent blood! There's nothing like it!" Sam's hand connected with Stanley's ear and instantly a thick stream of blood flowed out, onto Stanley's shoulder. "Get that cleaned up," Sam mumbled and strode into the dining room.

Nothing happened for minutes after. There was eerie silence. Then came the screams. Bloodcurdling wails filled the silent air. They were wails of a terrified child, the kind of noise that you never want to hear and as soon as you hear it you never forget, no matter how much you try.

Ringing silence now overcame the echo of the screeches.

"Stanley, find out who she was and send her body back to her parents." Stanley looked at his brother, seeing him for the monster he was.

"I can't do that Sam…"

"I don't care how you do it! Send it in a garbage bag for all I care! It will make a nice present."

Sam walked into Integra's room and she glared at him.

"What? I'm people too, I need to eat!" Sam exclaimed. At Integra's unimpressed expression, Sam sighed. "What will I ever do to impress you? Well that doesn't matter! As long as I get a meal out of it I'm alright. Thing is, if you keep killing, the cops get on your tail. Then you either gotta kill em or move from place to place. I do both."

Integra was about to open her mouth to say something, but Sam doubled over and disgorged a mixture of blood and food. Sam sat down in a broken chair across the room, his face looking unusually pale.

"Oh… ooh… I'm-I'm so sorry Integra… Sometimes that much blood just doesn't agree with me… oooh…" Sam ran a hand through his hair and wiped his mouth with the other hand. He was hugging himself with his arms when he started retching again, but this time all that was regurgitated was thick, blood streamed phlegm.

"Stanley…" Sam called weakly, then in a louder commanding voice he repeated, "Stanley!"

Stanley burst in, spotting the blood on the floor, then seeing Sam in his sick state.

"Shit…" Stanley whispered.

"Don't stand there and cuss!" Sam commanded, "Clean this up, then get Integra something to eat. I'm gonna go lie down…" Sam got up and slowly made his way out of the room, with his hand on his stomach.

Stanley also left the room, and came back with a sandwich on slightly soggy bread. He unlocked one of her handcuffs and gave her the sandwich. While she ate, Stanley got rid of the unappealing bloody puddle in the doorway. Ten minutes later, Sam came back in, claiming, "Sleep eludes me! At least we have prescription drugs!"

Stanley was leaving the room, but Sam grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back in. He reached in a pocket of his jeans and pulled out his blade that was now thickly coated in blood. The only remaining silver spot had words etched in, but Integra couldn't make out what it said.

For a minute she thought he was going to murder his brother, the only thing that kept him alive for the first few years he was a vampire, but instead Sam just placed it in Stanley's hand and said in a low voice, "I need you to put this with her body. The cops might find it useful, because it's the murder weapon and all."

Striding over to Integra, Sam locked her handcuff back up.

"I bet you would like it if I didn't keep you locked up like this. I bet you would like it if I gave you more food and drank your blood in a less painful way. I bet you would _love_ it if I told your organization where you are. And while I'm at that, I'm gonna start a five star fucking hotel for you!" Sam guffawed in laughter.

Integra allowed him to rant, just staring at him and silently judging.

"Integra, I will be right back. So don't miss me too much!" Sam perambulated out the door, and before the door secured her in the room, she caught a glimpse of Stanley carrying a little girl's body over his shoulder. Her dried blood was flaking off, leaving peeled scabs on Stanley's clothing. Sam traipsed back in, smirking.

"You killed a child," Integra accused.

"So? People die all the time. How do you know that she wouldn't get run over by a car while trying to cross a street? She would have died later, if I wouldn't have found her. I ended her life quicker this way."

"No. She could have found her way. What you did was selfish." Integra could feel anger coming into her voice and suppressed it.

It seemed as though Sam glided, because instantly he was right in front of her, his hot breath on her neck.

"I'll kill you too!" Sam crooned. Integra attempted to pull away and weakly defended herself, pointing out, "Too much blood makes you sick."

"Oh yeah. Good thing you pay attention!" Sam wrapped his arms around her neck and planted a sloppy kiss on her temple. "See you later, dahh-ling."

With the sound of her closing door, Integra felt as though she had just been officially cut off from the outside world, the world she was positive she wouldn't get back to.

* * *

><p>A little girl went missing. Cops were already alerted not even an hour later, and frantic searches were conducted by the people who had nothing better to do in the police station. Children went missing all the time.<p>

Both the little girls parents, Rachel was her name, went back to work. They worked their standard eight hours of work.

While their home was vacant during the day, a man walked up the driveway. A peculiar looking man. He slung a garbage bag over his shoulder. The contents of the bag threatened to break through the plastic surface, but the bag held. Looking both ways, the strange man set the bag down on the front step and hurried away.

The missing girl's father arrived home first. Seeing the garbage bag, he scowled. He would have pulled it to the curb for whichever neighbor he though left it there to take it back, but it smelled terrible, only drawing forth his curiosity.

Reaching into the bag, Rachel's father pulled out an all too familiar face, connected to her underdeveloped body. He turned away from the bag with the girl, gagging.

He rushed inside the house and called his wife, telling her to hurry home, it was important and he found Rachel. At first she sounded thrilled but her enthusiasm died as she heard his mourning tone. After the call to his wife, he instantly contacted the police.

Rachel's mother got home, tears streaming down her face once again. Her entire property was a crime scene. The only familiar face was that of her husband, just sitting out of the way of the police. He looked completely calm, and when he saw her, he stood up and moved as though it was a dream.

Both the girl's parents were herded to the police station. They examined their daughter's body, getting obvious facts pointed out to them. She was dead. She had only died an hour ago.

Apart from the slash marks, there was a rather peculiar and complex pentagram on the base of the small girl's neck.

Apart from the dried blood all over her body, she was completely drained of blood.

The police chief was slightly shocked, but he took on a composed manor and said, "This is out of our hands. Get me Hellsing."


	6. Chapter 6

Alucard, Seras, and Walter were all taking in the dead girl's appearance. She had been quite decently cleaned up, but that didn't cover up her repulsively dead-white skin, or the scratches all over her neck and shoulders that looked like they were still bleeding.

They had been examining the body for less than a minute, when Seras exclaimed, "Master! Your hand! Look!" She pointed a finger at a symbol at the base of the small girl's neck.

Alucard looked from the pentagram on his glove to the slightly smaller one on the girl's neck. He held his hand next to the scar for everyone to see. It was almost exactly the same, except that the one drawn with a blade on the girl's neck was jerky and with less of the smaller details. But you couldn't expect works of art on a corpse.

Without thought, Alucard grasped the girl's neck. With his hand completely wrapped around her neck, Alucard jolted her back and forth. Her head lolled and horrible snapping noises were filling the shocked silence of the room, sounding like the snapping noises of a fire.

Alucard stepped away, with the last drops of blood the girl had in her body on his hand, and stormed out of the room.

Walter and Seras were gawking after Alucard, but neither of them hurried to go after him.

* * *

><p>Sam strolled in, yawning, and said, "Good morning! You can't really tell what time it is in here, can you? Let's just say its morning. Anyways, I'm waking you up so early because I have this amazing idea and I've been almost dying to try it! What do you say, my darling bag of blood?"<p>

_Bag of blood?_

Perhaps it was constant blood-loss that was affecting her rationality, or lack or sleep, maybe even her proud nature that pushed her over the edge.

She pulled her lips back in a snarl that would have made a certain red clad vampire proud.

"You will call me Sir Integra and nothing else!" she barked.

Sam stepped back as if in shock, then his ghoul-like eyes narrowed and he said in a silky voice, "Ooh, look who's feisty today!

Integra recoiled as he moved towards her, expecting him to draw his blade and feed off her again.

His hand shot out, encircling her neck, a strong thumb tilting her head up. His action didn't feel dangerous or choking, almost cradling.

Integra stifled a gasp as he slid his hand up and down her spine. He moved his head close to hers, where his mouth was just beside her ear. It tickled slightly when he asked, "You feel it?"

She didn't know what she felt. There was a jumble of emotions, but one that distinctly stood out was fear. A kind of fear that she's never felt before.

Blood rushed to her head, turning her cheeks red.

Sam made a purring noise, making her shiver.

His mouth connected with the side of her neck for a moment, and at first she thought he was being inappropriately romantic, but the thought was instantly shattered by a scream escaping her lips. Searing pain flared on her shoulder and another scream was forced out of her mouth.

Sam's tongue flicked into the new wound.

"I'd do anything to get your blood going." Sam's voice was deep, the words emitted from low in his throat.

He bit down on her wound until the worst of the bleeding stopped.

He mocked her with insane laughter as he walked towards the only exit to her room. "Good day, _Sir Integra_," Sam said with the most hate he could manage at the moment, and then he was gone.

Everyone was gone now. Integra was beginning to doubt that anyone would ever find her. She just hoped that her organization was being well taken care of.

* * *

><p>Sam had thought about kidnapping Integra for months. He wasn't being careless with his actions even if it seemed like it. No, he had everything thought out and almost every flaw in his plan was resolved.<p>

Sam smiled, almost regretfully. He found it a shame that Integra would have to die. But his plan wouldn't go any other way. He thought that if Alucard was permanently without his master, then his head should be cleared and he could team up with Sam. There was no doubt about it that they could accomplish great things if they were a team. But Sam only feared that killing Integra would enrage Alucard and cooperation would be out of the question.

That was the only complication. The only flaw. Sam leaned on a wall, resting his head back with his eyes closed.

It had taken him about a month of blood to get the strength to be able to turn into a shapeless cloud of smoke and he felt that he might have enough blood to be able to do it again. But he would save that for when it was needed.

"What time is it?" he mumbled and stepped outside the rusted door. Sun shone down in blinding rays and he fought the impulse to go back inside. He hid in the shadows, his eyes shining through the semi darkness like cat eyes. "Just about lunch. Yum."

Sam shambled inside, grateful for the dimness. He never did like the sun, not even when he was human.

Sam felt a wave of kindness pass over him and he made a plate of sandwiches that he planned to share with Integra. But to make sure that his kindness wasn't surpassing his ability to be cruel, he brought a package of cigars to taunt Integra with.

"Hey!" he called and backed through the door. "I brought you food!" Integra surveyed him through her steadily dirtying glasses. "Come on, I wouldn't food poison you! I'm not going to kill you…" _Yet_, he thought but strained to keep from saying it.

They ate while Sam cracked bad jokes. Sam grinned after wiping sandwich off his face, and brought out a cigar.

Sam was smoking while just watching Integra; watching her eyes follow the cigar hanging from his mouth; watching the puffs of smoke rise up in the air only to fade away and be replace by another wave of smoke.

Sam stood up, strode over, and breathed a cloud of smoke in her face.

"I thought you'd be having withdrawal by now. You know, these are very, very bad for you anyways." Sam took the cigar out of his mouth and wedged it between Integra's lips. After moments, Sam pulled it away. Integra bit back, trying to keep the cigar but all she got was a mouthful of tobacco.

"I hate leaving you in here. I should get you a roommate! No, that's too much work. Make a couple imaginary friends, that's how I got by." Sam winked and left the room. The door seemed to echo loudly and instead of silence Integra heard voices. Voices outside the room, inside the room, whispering in her ears, inside her head. They were everywhere. Then the voices ceased just as suddenly as they had started. She sent out a silent plea that she would be saved soon.

_What's the likelihood of that happening?_ Asked a voice, the only one that didn't go away and the one that would never go away because the truth never shuts up.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if this last chapter was a bit of a disappointment, but I've had tons of exams to study for and I wanted to get this chapter out of the way. By the way it looks, I won't publish until at least the end of the month so just a fair warning, its going to be awhile. Thanks for the amazing reviews everyone, please keep it up!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was casually eating a bowl of strawberries, raspberries, and other assorted fruits that were turning his mouth increasingly red with every berry.

His voice seemed to be grating on Integra today. It was an odd feeling. It vibrated starting at her lungs and ending at her stomach, every time he spoke.

"Hey," he said, popping one last strawberry into his mouth. He wiped his face on his sleeve, leaving a large crimson smear on his beige shirt. He examined Integra with cold eyes. She could clearly see his hate for her in his eyes.

Sam appeared to have glided over to Integra, because in the next moment his face was right next to hers and he was furiously whispering in her ear, bowl of fruit forgotten.

"Do you even think anyone's looking for you?" he asked but seemed unconcerned. Integra gritted her teeth as the grating feeling that followed his voice worsened. "I mean, if anyone really cared, don't you think they would have found you by now? This might just be the break you needed to open your eyes and see that nobody likes you."

Sam chuckled and stepped away from her.

"Of course, this is all because of your 'Round Table' people. Yes that's right, I know. I just kind of _suggested_ that they say something just to piss you off! Then you could go sulk in your office like a bitch and I could come and kidnap you."

"Why would they listen to you?" Integra asked. Would they betray her?

"Little known fact: I am very persuasive. If I spent the rest of the day in here, I could convince you that you enjoy being here by tomorrow. But I like watching you struggle. I can see the sanity leaking out of your eyes day by day. One day soon you're gonna snap. And I will be there to see the whole thing." Sam grinned a hateful grin, but Integra knew that the hate she was seeing today wasn't a fraction of how much Sam really hated her.

Sam grabbed his fruit bowl and cradled it while popping more berries into his mouth.

"Stop eating," Integra growled.

"Why? Because you don't get to have any?"

Integra didn't answer for a moment, and that was what Sam expected, but then she replied, "Yes. That is exactly why."

"Why should I even listen to you, dahh-ling?"

"Don't call me that!" She shouted. If what Sam said about her 'snapping' one day soon, she wanted to put as much fight in as possible.

"Or you'll do what? Bore me to death?" Sam cackled in laughter. "Why are you so feisty all of a sudden? I can tell you're not gonna be easy to get rid of. Great. I need you for as long as I can have you." Sam turned to leave and Integra wanted to get the last word in, but couldn't think of anything to say to his turned back.

Sam slammed her door, but that didn't muffle his voice at all when he shouted, "Stan! STAN! I'm going out to eat! I'll be back soon with my meal!"

Integra bit her lip. He was going to kill someone. But that was very far from her mind. She attempted to devise plans to outsmart Sam, be one step ahead of him all the way, but he was so unpredictable that it was highly unlikely that she could do it in her state. She had been feeling constantly dizzy, tired, and empty. Integra knew that the latter had nothing to do with losing blood.

She was distressed that if anybody was making any efforts whatsoever to find her, nobody had come close. It pained her to know that Sam was right. Nobody seemed to be trying very hard to find her.

Integra looked to her left and examined the rusted hand-cuff. It didn't seem to be any weaker than it was when she was first locked up. Integra tried it, but there was no success there. Now, she looked past the hand-cuff and at what it was chained to. It was a pipe of some sort, that might have pumped water through the building, but Integra didn't know for sure and didn't care. Her eyes followed the pipe across the room, where it stretched towards her door and then disappeared into the wall.

Looking at her gold hand-cuffs that had gotten considerably dusty since Integra had been first held here, she tried to see what they were attached to, but was dismayed when she couldn't see. That corner of the room seemed too dark even though it was right beside her head.

Integra looked at the ground, knowing she wouldn't see anything except for the long-past moulded tiles there.

_You need to get stronger, and then perhaps escape would be possible_, some rational part of her mind thought and she agreed. Integra couldn't think of a way to become stronger though. Every time Sam drank from her it left her exhausted for days.

Stanley lightly knocked on her door, and then came in.

"Hello, Miss Hellsing. Just a fair warning, Sam is back with his next-" Stanley choked on his words then continued, "with his next victim. She's quite a disturbing thing, so if you see her… just…" Stanley couldn't continue, and instead just bowed to her and left. As her door was swinging shut, she saw Sam stroll by with his arm around a poorly clothed woman.

A few minutes later, Integra heard giggling and shrieks of anticipated pleasure, but those shrieks died off into shrieks of anguish.

Moments after that, Sam dragged a dead prostitute into Integra's room. He propped her up against the door, stood beside Integra and examined the dead woman like a work of art.

"What do you think?" he asked nonchalantly. "Found her on the side of the road. I think she was one of those people that just needed killing, you know?"

Sam picked up her body and sat in a chair with her in his lap. He took out his blood crusted blade and cut her neck open, adding to the other bleeding cuts on her body. He drank from this incision until no more blood exited the wound, and did the same with all the others. He didn't spend long on this, but it disturbed Integra greatly.

"And that is how," Sam proudly said, "I kill a person!"

Sam left the room for a minute and came back with a few wet cloths and one dry towel. He cleaned her body of all blood so that she could have passed for a living human on the street (besides the pasty white skin). Sam stared at her body again and strode over to Integra. His face looked joyful, and he cocked his head sideways while smiling like a madman.

He extended his forefinger and held it in front of Integra's face while he was reaching for something in his pocket. He brought out his blade and slashed it down on Integra's arm in the same place as always. This seemed deeper and more painful than usual though, and a larger amount of blood spilled out.

Sam collected her blood in a cup, and when the last drops had fallen he went over to the dead woman, still silent, and smeared it all over her. On her face, on her stomach and back, and on her arms and legs. Sam straitened, extended his arms as if to say, ta da!

Integra opened her mouth to say something, but Sam cut her off.

"Your blood on this dead whore has nothing to do with what I think of you dahh-ling. Blood is just blood. I mean, even to me blood still tastes steely and salty, but with a kind of zest to it now, something it never had when I was completely human. I just want your organization to know that I would kill you just like I would kill any other person. And I hope this," Sam gestured towards the dead woman slumped on the floor, "shows them my intentions clearly."

Sam turned to walk away. Integra was itching to get the last word in this time. But again she was lost for words.

"They will find me," She said coldly. Sam turned with a smug expression on his face.

"I'm counting on it," he said in a gravelly tone and left the room.

* * *

><p>Alucard and Walter were examining the prostitute's body.<p>

"That's my master's blood," Alucard said slowly in a low voice.

"Are you sure Alucard?" Walter asked. Alucard nodded in confirmation.

This all seemed too much. It was as if Integra's kidnapper was sending calling cards of dead bodies. It was like they wanted to be caught.

Alucard assumed that they were overlooking some important small detail. He had a significant feeling that Integra was closer than any of them knew. She probably didn't know how close she was, herself.

"We have to find her soon." Alucard tried to sound casual while saying this, but only sounded more worried. Walter nodded. Both of them wore grim expressions, but neither said anything.

Alucard left the room and Walter followed shortly after. Walter went to every measure to try and find Integra. He even went and filed a missing person case with the local police. But they didn't seem to be trying very hard. That infuriated everyone, but nobody could do a thing to speed up their search.

Everybody seemed to be failing at finding her. But in the end, everyone knew that nobody was going to _find_ Integra, but somehow she was going to find her way to one of them. _Somehow._

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for giving me the month off to study! Exams are finally over, and I have the next two months to write, so you can probably expect a lot from me now. I tried to make this chapter as long as I could just so it wasn't as much of a disappointment. Again, keep up with the reviews everyone!<strong>_  
><em>


	8. Chapter 8

Sam's eyes flew open. He was just about to the point of sweating, but not quite there. He tried to recall the dream he so begrudgingly awoke himself from. It wasn't necessarily a good dream, but he felt that it had a meaning.

Sam lay in his small cot, allowing sleep to either pass over him or let him back into the smooth paradise of unconsciousness.

Eventually he realized sleep was not going to come, and he swung his legs out of the side of his sea of blankets.

Sam stood up, yawned, and all of a sudden clung to the wall as if his life was in danger.

In seconds his vision was being blotted out by large inky flowers. Whatever else he could see was made up of tiny multicolored grains that showed no details.

He fell to his hands and knees, his head feeling like it would split. He couldn't feel either of his arms or anything below the waist. Distantly he felt like only a floating head and torso.

His head spun so badly it was making him feel like he would be severely nauseous in the near future.

Clambering up from the ground, Sam tried to shake off this odd feeling of dizziness and panic that filled him.

In a rush, his dream filled all his thoughts. He was being murdered brutally and inhumanly. His murderer (_Or my liberator_, Sam thought with some dread) was a shadowy kind of man, obviously a man, because of the deep voice he had while cracking snide remarks at Sam during his suffering. He was strong, nothing like Sam would ever be or could ever face, and his eyes- _dear lord those eyes!_- were the most intimidating shade of crimson that Sam would ever see. They pierced into his mind and could probably very well pierce his body. Sam's cries and pleas were laughed at, not because the shadowy man found them funny but because both of them knew that no amount of pleading would save him.

Sam staggered over to his cot and sat on the edge. His hands tightly squeezed his knees and his head was lowered. He made retching noises for a few moments but no sour bile shot up his throat like he expected.

Sam's innards calmed down, and he looked up. Across the room he could see his face in a cracked mirror. His distorted face looked ghastly pale.

He walked over to the mirror and examined his face closer. One of his hollow-looking eyes was significantly lower on his face than everything else, and his mouth was more to the right than it should have been. Sam let out a burst of shaky laughter.

"Duh-duh-damn mirror," he stuttered with a nervous smile on his face. "B-b-bru-broken ones are no g-good."

Sam picked up his pants off the floor and slid into them. The belt he usually wore remained halfway under the cot.

"Just a panic attack," he assured himself. After all, he deserved to be panicked. There was a big day ahead of him.

* * *

><p>Integra was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. Her legs ached hellishly from standing and her arms felt likewise from having to support her weight while she slept.<p>

She craved movement, any movement she could get. Often she only resorted to shuffling her feet or flexing her fingers.

Integra's thoughts would not obey her. Panic sometimes weaved itself into her mind and it left her uneasy for hours. She knew that what Sam had predicted was true; that she was slowly going insane. This was all a nightmare, a nightmare from the start, and it got worse every day, because every day that passed, Integra knew that the search for her would be thinning and people would start doubting.

Integra started from a light sleep when Sam poked his head through the door.

"Hi," he said, sounding socially awkward. "I think I might've… left something in here." Sam ambled in. Integra noticed instantly that he looked different; perhaps sickly is a better word. Blue veins formed spider webs beneath his pallid skin. The tone of voice he used was not his usual sarcastic tone; it was more excited and scared. Even his walk was different. His proud stroll was mutated into a cautious step.

Sam found his lost possesion on an object concealed by a tarp in the corner of the room.

"Sorry, I'll get going," he said with a wan smile on his lips. He pushed his hair away from his face with the barrel of a gun.

"Why do you have a gun?" Integra asked, stunned.

"Oh, uh…" That was all Sam gave for an answer. He reached into his pocket and brought out his blade. He stared at it, looking far off. "Sorry, I have to do this before I go." Sam slashed her arm and through the pain Integra wondered how he continued lacerating her arm in the same place, but the thought only crossed her mind briefly before the agony of his drinking started. His drinking of her blood always felt more painful than the time before.

Integra's breathing was shallow and her vision was getting blurred around the edges, but that could have been because her glasses were dirty.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice gaining its natural silkiness. "You're going to be just fine." Integra threw him a glare so intense and hateful that Sam took half a step back.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, very set on gaining an answer. "I did nothing to you!"

"But your _family_ did, and that's all that counts. Because you're in the bloodline, you have to pay."

"Then why haven't you murdered me already?"

"Did _they_ murder me? No. They let me live in this freakish hell of hells. I'm not sure if anyone knew this would be the outcome, but here I am as an outcast. Not quite vampire, not quite human. It's torture. All I want is revenge. I'm going to kill you, so that no more Hellsings are around. But you'll die after I'm done with you. That is your family's price. For all the vampires they've killed. I'm not completely doing this all for me you know. I have no doubt Stan told you my story. So for all the vampires who were given a second chance by another vampire, setting them free, I'm doing this."

"When they come for me," Integra panted. Breathing was harder now that she was becoming enraged. "When they come, they'll kill you."

"And that's my price." Sam turned to walk out of the room. Over his shoulder he snarled, "I'm out, Hellsing bitch."

* * *

><p>A man entered the local police station just after nine that morning. He looked fairly young with light brown hair cut in a careless fashion, flawless skin, and a certain swagger that showed his obvious youth.<p>

He waited for other people to get through their problems with the police, and when new people came in with their problems he let them go ahead. As the day progressed, his brow creased and visibly became worried.

It was just after mid-day when the man finally approached the officer at the desk. This officer was young as well, and very new to his job. He strived to be an overachiever, and so he was determined to work through his lunch to help this man. Lunch wasn't busy anyways, so maybe he could still have time to relax.

"Can I help you, sir?" He asked in the custom greeting, rubbing a hand through his jet black hair.

"Do you have a missing person file on… Integra Hellsing?" The man asked slowly, as if taking the officer for an idiot. The way he asked set the hair on the back of the officers' neck on edge.

"Uh, j-just a minute." The officer didn't know what to do. Nobody had ever asked him about a missing person case before. Was he supposed to let him in on it? Or was he supposed to let a superior officer handle it?

The officer dove into a filing cabinet of missing person files. "Hellsing, you said?" he called over his shoulder. The name 'Hellsing' seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"That's right."

The officer shivered. The way he said 'right' was said in almost a sing-song tone, the tone you hear from the slashers in horror films. The officer shivered again.

"Here it is," he announced and walked back over to the desk. He looked out to the lobby, where there was not another soul.

He placed the file on the desk, but kept a hand on it. He looked at the picture paper-clipped on the outside. She looked like she didn't take nonsense from anyone. The officer could tell just by the look on her face.

"Is this your person?" He asked, turning the file so the man could see it.

"That's her all right!" He exclaimed gleefully.

"Are you family of hers?"

"No, no. But I have some information." The officers' eyes lit up. He remembered where he heard the name before. Two of his superiors were speaking of her the other day. Apparently she's very important. The officer thought for sure he would get a promotion if he could get any leads on her that would help them find her.

"What's your name?" the man asked, casually looking at his fingers.

"Uh, ah, Green." Inside he swore at himself. He forgot to say his rank.

"Well, Green, I know where she is."

Green's eyes lit up. "You do? Uh, maybe fill out a report… How do you know where she is?"

"Well, Green," the man said, looking up from his hands again, "it's because I kidnapped her."

Green's eyes widened. He expected the man to burst out laughing and say 'I'm joking, Green'. But no such thing happened. There was only a grave, sincere look on his young face.

"Wh-wh-what? I don't understand what you mean-" Green was cut off because the man in front of him was now holding a gun level to his face.

Green was started to look green. His forehead and nose were as pale as the clean, purely white linoleum tiles on the floor, but the rest of his face matched his name.

"S-s-s-sir?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"Listen here Green," the man said. Green looked into his eyes. If he was going to get shot today he wanted this man to know that he wasn't afraid to look his killer in the eye while he died. But what Green saw sent him staggering backwards. He ushered a loud cry that made everyone else stare. Still, no more people entered the police station.

The man's eyes were like deep pits. They almost had no particular color to them, and Green saw himself in those eyes, desperate and about to die.

The man chuckled and continued. "Here's what I want you to do…"


	9. Chapter 9

"I need you to focus, Green!" Sam hissed. "Stop crying and tell me, how far did you get with the investigation?"

"I-I-I don't know sir, I really don't-" Green's voice quickened after he finished stuttering 'I'.

Sam held up a hand. "Do you want to die today, Officer Green? Answer my question."

"I really don't know! I wasn't part of it; I had nothing to do with the entire investigation!"

"Don't try to claim your innocence! It won't make a difference!" Sam snarled and Green backed away. "Don't move," Sam growled.

"We had no leads or suspects for the Hellsing case," an officer chimed in from the corner of the room. Sam nodded in approval. Green looked nervously down the barrel of Sam's gun.

Sam picked up the file and searched the contents. There was a report on the day she went missing and there was a description of her, but that was all. Through all this, the gun pointed at Green stayed level.

"That's great." A good-natured smile cracked upon Sam's lips. "Thank you gentlemen!" Sam lowered his hand. Green breathed a sigh of relief.

An instant later the barrel of his gun was smoking. His hand was level with Green as if it had never moved. It took a few moments for Green to fall back after he was shot. As if in slow motion, Green looked down at his wound, slightly propelled backwards by the force of the bullet, and then crumbled.

Sam shot the man who spoke up earlier saying that they had no leads. His death was just a quick shot to the head.

People were starting to panic. As their eyes widened from dawning realization that they would not make it out alive, Sam shot them.

Nobody mistook the gleeful expression for a grimace or a regretful look, no. All of them clued in that this was merely entertaining him. They might as well have lined up in front of him so they could be shot. He fired once, twice, three times and let out a joyful sigh when he took down two people with one bullet.

"Put the gun down and put your hands on your head!" A commanding male voice shouted from behind him. He did exactly as the voice said, crouching down and placing his gun on the floor. Two officers rushed forewords to handcuff him.

"Just a minute," Sam said, shoving one of them away. "Just-just let me fix my pants. They're falling down." Sam grinned at an officer pointing a gun at him. "You know, I had to keep'em loose so I could get my gun easier."

Sam hitched up his pants. The officer looked stunned as his co-workers all of a sudden fell down in bleeding heaps.

Sam was twirling a bloody blade, and was advancing on the officer.

"You'd be better off putting that gun down," he suggested, but the officer ignored him.

"I'LL SHOOT YOU!" He cried, obviously trying to scare Sam away and save his life.

"Go ahead." Sam spread his arms apart. The officer squinted as he aimed for Sam's head, right between the eyes. Sam lunged foreword as the officer's finger tightened on the trigger. Sam was on one knee in front of the officer, his other leg stretched out behind him. Blood streamed onto his arm, and then dripped onto the floor. His hand was nearly lodged in the officer's stomach. Sam wrenched his hand out, along with his now crimson colored blade. He caught the officer from falling under the arms, holding him up.

He whispered in the officer's ear, his head so close that with every word the officer could feel Sam's lips moving.

"A gun wasn't the only weapon I had to hide." Sam let the officer fall, and the officer did so gracefully. His legs were folded underneath him, and his arms were splayed out as if he were anticipating an embrace. His vision was doubling now, and darkening around the edges. But the officer saw Sam's face as clear as he remembered kissing his wife goodbye that morning.

Sam grinned. His white teeth showed through the shadows concealing his face.

Sam stepped foreword with one leg. His foot was now resting on the officer's throat, and every moment that passed the pressure his foot was creating became greater.

"You were brave, officer," Sam said, his tone warm and almost regretful. "But now it's time for you to die." Sam lifted his foot off the officer's throat. The officer thought he would be free despite what Sam just said, but Sam's foot slammed back down onto the officer's throat with lightening speed.

More police officers shot at him, but the bodies on the floor continued piling up. Sam was covered in the blood of the others around him, not one drop of his own spilled.

It was like Sam was dancing. Graceful and light footed, Sam slashed throats, stabbed chests, eyes, and stomachs, and even held one man's head and decapitated him as if he was cutting through a stick of butter.

The police station was in a blood fest. Crimson liquid sprayed up in graceful arks with every slash of Sam's blade.

One officer had the common sense to run, but Sam caught him. He threw his blade across the room and struck the deserter in the back of the head, where a few feeble spurts of blood appeared like fireworks. The rest of the blood leaked down his back.

Sam ran across the room to retrieve his weapon. An older gentleman stepped in front of him, gun raised at eye level.

"Son, I'm going to take you in. You'll be lucky if you ever see daylight again."

"As will you." The officer took a moment to be puzzled by this remark and then fell backwards as Sam pounced on him. Sam grabbed the flesh of the elderly officer's stomach and ripped, taking uniform and flesh off.

The man shouted and pleaded, tears leaked off his face as he begged Sam to stop, but Sam continued ripping off the man's skin. He advanced higher up with every tear, diminishing the man's figure. Sam reached the man's throat and stopped. He listened to the man's breathing, shallow and wet sounding. The man's mouth was moving. Sam leaned down to hear. He still heard nothing so he leaned closer.

"You… are a demon…"

"That's right, sir." Sam closed his hand around the man's throat and pulled. Effortlessly the flesh came off and the neck broke. Sam leaned foreword again, burying his face in the man's blood. All commotion around him stopped as they watched him.

"What the hell are you doing!" Someone called from in front of him. Sam looked up. Another terrified officer stood in front of him. The officer dropped his gun, his hand twitching.

Sam licked his lips, and stood up. His eyes seemed to glow deep red, the color of old dried blood. He stood up to his full height, and towered over the officer (who was rather short anyways).

The officer fumbled inside his shirt for a moment and brought out a large silver cross.

Sam glared. The officer thrust it foreword.

"I know what you are!" The officer shouted. "You're a vampire!"

Sam tilted his head in a sideways nod, and said in an approving voice, "Not quite." The officer held his cross out and Sam felt immediate discomfort. Sam belted past him and retrieved his blade from the back of a head. He sprinted at the officer with the cross.

Seconds later, Sam was pulling his blade out of the officer's kidney. He stabbed him one more time around the liver. Sam ripped his blade out through the side of the officer, leaving the body nearly severed into two pieces.

Nobody else remained. Sam waltzed around, feeling superior; checking to make sure everyone was dead. But he did so quickly.

Sam pulled one body off the floor, and slung it around his shoulder. He had to work fast if someone in one of the offices had called an ambulance and some back-up. The media might very well be on the way as well.

Sam made a large incision down the middle of the body. He inserted his hand into the wound and brought out a dripping handful of blood.

Slapping it on the wall, he started smearing it. Eventually he ran out and had to reach in for more blood. He thought he heard sirens outside and hurried to finish.

Fifteen minutes (and two bodies) later, Sam admired his painting on a once-clean wall. He heard sirens again, and this time they weren't just in his head. He quickly made his way out of the building and out of sight.

* * *

><p>Sam arrived back 'home' within ten minutes. He rushed into Integra's room. He hurried up to her and slapped her cheeks to wake her.<p>

"Hey hey hey!" He exclaimed.

"What-" Integra started to say groggily but stopped. Her eyes widened. "Why are you covered in blood?"

"Sh sh shhhhh!" Sam made his way to the corner of the room. He pulled the tarp off of a large object, revealing a very dusty television. He turned it on to the news, where the picture wavered and then solidified.

The reporter was speaking of a murderer who massacred over twenty police officers. She looked sick standing amongst the bodies being cleaned up.

"If you have seen this man, call the police right away," she was saying. A side-view of Sam's head captured by a security camera showed in the corner of the screen.

"Now I'm officially a murderer _and_ a kidnapper!" Sam exclaimed. "And guess what!" Sam pulled a cream-colored file out from his shirt and held it in front of Integra. "It's your missing person file!"

Integra's heart sunk. Anything they had on her, any helpful information was now in Sam's hand. And he wouldn't let it get back to them again.

She glanced over to the television, where the camera was zooming into a large symbol on the wall, painted there with blood. What she was seeing was no more than the pentagram she knew too well, the one that belonged on her servant.

* * *

><p>Alucard was watching the camera zoom out of the pentagram. It couldn't be. The same sick person who kidnapped his master was now taunting <em>him<em> personally. Alucard clenched his fist into a tight ball. But he was grinning. Because now he knew what Integra's kidnapper looked like. He didn't look very tough; he looked just like a normal human. After every enemy he's faced before, another human would be nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

_ Alucard was surveying his surroundings. He was in a dingy old place, where the walls were moulding in the corners and the floor was rotted through in some spots. _

_ The building itself felt cramped and claustrophobic, but Alucard went onwards, exploring the shadowy halls that gave way to dark rooms._

_ He heard heavy breathing, as if from someone badly injured. He didn't care about the person but was merely curious as to what happened._

_ He emerged in the darkness of the last room that his current hallway led to. The very air seemed black with darkness, but Alucard's eyes were accustomed. _

_ Suspended in the corner was a figure he knew too well. He took in his master's appearance, and she looked very much the same as she did the day she was taken._

_ "Master!" he called, his voice sounding far off and distant to his own ears. Integra looked up at him for a moment, and then her eyes dropped to the floor._

_ Alucard hurried over to her, eager to get her out of this place. He tilted her head up towards his and their eyes met. She looked truly horrid closer up. Her eyes weren't as bright and her face was caked with blood. Her features were less sharp, and it made Alucard think that maybe she had given up._

_ "Are you alright, Master?" he asked. She nodded, her gaze once again straying from his own._

_ Alucard walked over to Integra's right, where he saw a pair of handcuffs holding her up. He looked to her left where he saw the same thing. Alucard lifted a hand and placed it on the handcuff, ready to pull her free. He was in the process of doing so when Integra's voice rang out, as powerful as ever, "Stop."_

_ "Why, Master? I need to get you out of here!"_

_ "Alucard, this is a dream. If you free me now I will only be free here, in your head. Don't waste your energy helping me now; find a way to do it in reality."_

_ Alucard paused and stared at his Master with a puzzled expression on his face. She was looking at him with sympathy, and then the dream dissolved around him. Alucard let out a distressed cry._

* * *

><p>Alucard let out a distressed cry. It all felt so real. For a moment, Alucard thought that he actually saved his master, that she would be safe. He had filled with pride, but it was all shattered when she told him that he was dreaming and helping her would do nothing.<p>

He was starting to feel almost stupid. Actually believing that he would save Integra in his slumber, yes that was a _wild_ one! He groped for a package of medical blood, which he drained in seconds, and threw the remains of the floor.

Alucard was disappointed with everyone else's efforts to try and recover Integra. The police had failed and even _they, _at Hellsing, were failing. No trace of her. No trace of the human-looking kidnapper. He was good at hiding; Alucard had to give him that. But one day he would do something reckless and there would be no more hiding for him.

There were no leads on the location of the kidnapper and murderer from the previous day's ordeal at the police station. No minor features were overlooked, no _major_ features overlooked either. The only thing that seemed of any importance was the pentagram, drawn in blood on the wall. This human seemed to be taunting Alucard personally and that enraged him.

If he happened to see this human on the street Alucard was sure to make quick work of him. But that would set them back to square one. Because then the only way they could possibly find Integra would be gone.

Alucard wanted his Master found soon, and although sitting and stewing didn't make them come any closer to finding her (perhaps made her even farther out of their reach) he tried to be hopeful.

Hope was hard to come by, though, when dreadful thoughts waltzed freely into his mind, things like: _a missing person could very well be dead. You could be chasing after a dead body _or_ if you haven't found her already, she's gone for good._

Frequently Alucard took sentimental walks to her office, where things had gone untouched for some time. After the blown out windows were replaced, nobody except Alucard set foot there. Occasionally he would wonder if Integra was having withdrawal from her cigars. If she wasn't, that would just add to the list of things he was thankful for.

Alucard seemed like a large pit of boiling regret. _How could he have let his Master go so easily?_ That was still the question he was asking himself.

His hatred for the human kidnapper stirred with his regret, making Alucard a time bomb. But he would only go off when his Master was safe and he was facing the human. Until then, let hate and regret mix and simmer! Let it join together in an endless, uncontrollable mass! That would only make him even more deadly, and that was hardly possible.


	11. Chapter 11

"Stan, make sure she doesn't die while I'm out today," Sam had instructed him. "I'll be gone all day, but don't try anything like setting her free."

Stanley rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands.

He failed Sam's instructions already and it hadn't even been an hour since he gave them.

Stanley rested his head on one of the less-splintered patches of the wall. It released an audible creak.

_One day this place is going to fall down,_ Stanley thought, _and when it does I hope Sam dies in the accident._

Stanley let Integra go soon after Sam left. Stanley knew that Sam could be back any minute, because never in a lifetime would he be called trustworthy. He might have lied to test his brother. But Stanley freed Integra anyways.

He cleaned out the wound on her arm that was getting dangerously close to being infected and left her in her room with a bottle of water and a large plate of food so that she could regain her strength.

"Stanley, you're so stupid!" he whispered furiously to himself, running a hand through his thinning hair. Sam would know Integra was out. Somehow, he would know.

But Stanley was weak. He couldn't lock Integra back up if he tried because he knew how uncomfortable it was, having to be chained up like that, waiting for your captor to come by, slice your flesh open and drink from your wounds. He saw that unfortunate fate come upon many other people. They didn't last this long though, and so Stanley had hope for Integra.

Stanley went to check on her.

"Miss Hellsing?" he called into the room and stepped in. Integra was sitting on the floor, legs crossed beneath her, washing down food with large gulps of water. "You shouldn't eat so fast," he suggested and she just shook her head.

Stanley sat down, facing her. Her brow was furrowed, obviously using this time to try to think of how to escape or let her organization know she was here. This made Stanley feel guilty.

"I'm sorry that I have to keep you here," he said in a gravely voice. "Sam would kill you for sure if I let you go. But if there's anything I can do just let me know," Stanley offered.

Integra shook her head once more and replied, "It isn't your job to get me out of here. My organization is no doubt looking for me still."

"But say they fail-"

"They won't fail," Integra snapped. _At least I hope they won't._

"Whatever you say, Miss Hellsing," Stanley said, feeling slightly discouraged. He felt the great need to help Integra. Even though he barely knew her he did care a lot for her. He didn't know why. Maybe out of respect. Envy for her having been through so much. Whatever the case, he did care if she lived or died.

But a shadow lurked around his mind, because this entire ordeal may never have happened. He could have stopped his brother.

"Stanley, where are we?" Integra asked, breaking the silence.

"Somewhere on the outskirts of a city, I guess."

Integra bit her lip and asked, "Do you happen to have any cigars?"

Stanley shook his head.

The building around them rattled and Stanley looked up until the shaking stopped and muttered, "Damn trains."

"Trains?" Integra asked, perking up.

"Oh, yeah… tons around here. The track is build right next to us. Have you honestly never noticed the trains going by here?"

"I've had more important things to worry about than _trains_," Integra spat.

"Right…" Stanley breathed and got up to leave. He was taking great offense to some of the things she said to him, and although he knew it wasn't his place to be getting defensive, it bothered him greatly.

Integra didn't stop him from leaving. She was thinking, _where exactly could we be?_ It seemed very possible that they were in an abandoned building in the country, if what Stanley had said was true. There are so many abandoned buildings it would take a long time for her organization to find her in this one.

She tried to make sense of everything for hours, but it only felt like minutes. The only thing that shook Integra out of her trace-like state was the agony-filled shouts coming from another room.

Integra bolted upright just in time for Sam to come, grinning, into the room.

"So… What have you figured out?" Sam asked. Another train rattled the building. "Too bad I can't kill you yet or else you would be long gone."

Sam dashed foreword, his blade grazing and tearing the flesh of her side.

Integra cried out in surprise. Slight pain welled where fresh blood was running down her body.

"Why couldn't you have just _stayed locked up?_ Then I wouldn't have to cause you any of this awfully useless misery."

Sam jabbed his blade foreword every few words, a few times barely grazing her skin.

Integra fell backwards, tripping on some debris on the floor.

Sam's shadow fell on her and his insanely large grin illuminated his face.

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

Integra's heart pounded in her chest, her palms grew sweaty, and she knew these were signs of fear. But the terror of the moment didn't strike her heart. It was only empty fear that she knew she _should_ be feeling.

"I'll ask again: _are you afraid?"_

"No."

"No? We'll have to do something about that." Sam leaned foreword, his face so close to Integra's that she smelled his putrid breath. He put each hand on one of her shoulders and pulled her up.

Integra was awkwardly half standing, half resting on the wall right in between where her handcuffs dangled. Sam retreated his hands from her, letting her slide a few inches.

Integra felt Sam's hand close around her neck, his hand nearly completely closed around it. His hand tightened around her neck, and Integra fell foreword on her knees. She struggled and tried to pry his hand away, but he only laughed and continued squeezing her neck.

Integra's vision was darkening around the edges. Her useless clawing ceased. She was almost certain that, out of all the times she felt as if she was going to die, this was the one moment where she was right.

Suddenly, Sam's grasp loosened and his hand fell away. He effortlessly hauled her up and handcuffed her again, leaving her dangling.

Integra was trying to recover herself, breathing in short puffs instead of taking a deep breath like she longed to do.

"You won't try anything like this again, will you?" Sam asked over his shoulder on his way out. Integra's slowly regulating breath was his only answer, but it seemed to satisfy him enough, because he left without another word.

Sam was through with Integra now, but he still had to straighten it out with his brother. This couldn't happen tomorrow. Tomorrow was another big day, a big day out of many more to come.


	12. Chapter 12

The afternoon sun beat down upon the Sam, forcing him to stick to the shadows.

He was walking in an old yet fairly busy neighbourhood, and here he had been pacing back and forth, throwing people unforgiving glares.

This was definitely the site where the action would start happening. He just had to wait for the right time.

_Waiting is essential, _he told himself, his impatience growing. These people were begging to die, every last one of them.

The job would not be done right if he was hasty, though.

So Sam patiently waited, pacing back and forth.

Sam was sent sprawling after a man bumped into him. He held his hand out to Sam and apologized over and over. Sam grasped the man's hand and pulled himself up. This man unknowingly volunteered himself to begin the days events.

"Uh, sir?" Sam addressed the man, trying to seem timid.

"Yes, m'boy?" The man asked after an interrupted apology.

"Uh, well I was wondering if you could tell me, uh, where I am… I'm a tourist, um, and I'm lost… Could you, maybe, help?" Sam had to refrain from grinning. This was going to be too easy.

"Ah yes, a tourist! Then let me help you, m'boy!" Sam waited patiently as the stranger gave Sam directions that he didn't really need, while shifting his weight onto a different leg every few seconds.

"Something wrong, m'boy?"

"No sir," Sam replied, his pretend interest dropping. "All though I do wish you would shut the fuck up old chap!" Sam shouted in a horrible imitation of the strangers' accent.

The man stared, astounded.

"There we go! Time to have some fun!" Sam exclaimed gleefully. He gave the stranger a square kick in the stomach, sending him sprawling into the middle of the road. Sam hurried over to him, brandishing his blade as he approached him.

"Now old boy, you ready to serve your purpose?" The man stared blankly up at him, trying to comprehend why a tourist would be trying to kill him.

"Of course you're not you _big, fat, dope._" With every emphasized word Sam stabbed the man. Each time Sam drew his arm back in a high arc above his head, he showered himself with crimson rain.

Soon enough, the man was as good as dead, although he was so deformed that he could hardly be called a man anymore.

A crowd was drawn behind Sam. He could hear the chatter and the judgmental voices, both behind him and in his head.

Sam turned quickly on his heels to face the crowd. A woman in the front gasped at the blood-speckled figure. Sam took a large step foreword, so that his face was inches from hers.

"You're surprised?" He said in a barely audible tone. "Well, get used to this face because it will be the last one you see before you die." Sam's blade cut through the woman's throat as if through air.

"Does anyone else want some?" he called to the crowd.

Shocked silence filled the tense air. Another woman, this one in the back, shrieked. Then the shocked silence was broken and the chaos began. People pushed and shoved one another to try and get away from the blood-covered madman that stood before them. But he only scoped the crowd and smiled. Disorganization was all he wanted. Because in a disorganized crowd, it would be difficult to see your killer come after you.

A young man was running past Sam, and Sam only had to hold out his arm for the blade to cut across the man's throat and send him to the ground, throat spurting blood.

The next moments seemed to go by in a blur. Sam couldn't remember killing half of the bodies that lay before him.

Sam cut open a body and took a fairly large gulp of blood. He raised his head when he heard crying. Adolescent crying

Sam looked around, as if a dog trying to catch a scent in the air. His eyes came across a young girl, curled up and blood soaked.

"What is this?" Sam whispered. He got up from his knees and walked over to the girl, kicking bodies out of the way as he did so.

Her eyes widened as she saw the bloodstained figure standing before her. His eyes were boring down on her, almost reading her mind.

"Hello," he said casually, but the girl didn't hear. She only saw his mouth move, the teeth behind those bloody lips stained red.

Sam sat next to her, legs crossed as if sitting in his own home.

"Sit up," he said softly, but somewhere in those words it was a command. The girl did as she was told, wiping a tear off her face as she did so.

She sat on her legs, uncomfortable and unsure of what was going to happen to her.

"Do you love your life?" he asked softly, making a small drawing in the blood seeping from a nearby body.

She nodded her head.

"Family?"

Again, she nodded her head.

"Tell me what they're like," he whispered softly.

"I have two b-brothers and an older sister. And so many c-c-cousins-"

She was taken aback when the man threw her back so she was laying down, the sun temporarily blinding her.

"Your family can do without you," the man hissed and he drove his blade into her ribs. She screamed in pain and terror, giving the man plenty of satisfaction. He pulled his blade out and stabbed her again and again. He made himself comfortable on the girl's stomach, with one leg on each side of her. Still his stabbing continued, regardless of the sirens sounding in the background coming closer with every stab.

The sound of a slamming vehicle door brought him to his senses. He got up and wheeled around to face a group of people, all of which were pointing guns at him.

They ordered him to put the weapon down, and Sam did so. He raised his hands above his head and an officer approached him to check for more weapons.

"You got me. Bravo!" Sam casually said to the officer. Sam cackled as he was handcuffed. "I never thought _I _would finally be the one in handcuffs! I can't say I particularly enjoy the experience…"

Sam hopped into the police van, all too willfully. So cooperatively, in fact, that the officers were becoming edgy.

"Come on! I can hardly stand the suspense!" Sam shouted theatrically. His voice was slightly muffled to the policemen outside the van, but still very audible.

None of them wanted to spend the ride with the maniac presently sitting in the back of the van. But that was not a choice. They finally had the man who had killed a multitude of people, and he would be brought to justice.

Eventually, they began heading towards the police station.

* * *

><p>Walter received the call around midday. The police had informed him that they had finally caught Integra's kidnapper after he slaughtered nearly thirty people.<p>

"We're holding him for questioning," they notified Walter. They were holding this man just for them to witness the questioning. How kind.

The Hellsing organization was getting desperate. Without their leader, they could hardly function properly. Now they could finally have her location and get her back.

Walter considered waking Alucard, then decided against it. This was the first time Alucard seemed to really settle down since Integra's disappearance.

Walter decided to contemplate the situation to pass the time. He had a sick feeling that the kidnapper may not give the location of where he was keeping Integra. Another sick feeling wound itself into his thoughts. _She could be dead._

And then there was the matter that this kidnapper was caught so easily this time. He had put up a fight at the police station and had won, as if it was a game. So why was this time different? Why-

Alucard stepped out of the shadows and he addressed Walter formally.

"Alucard, the police phoned not too long ago and informed me that they caught the man who kidnapped Sir Integra."

Alucard advance upon Walter.

"You didn't feel the need to tell me this?" he roared.

They spent the next few minutes arguing.

Soon, both of them ran out of patience. Walter sighed and said, "They said we can be present during his questioning."

"Then what are we waiting for, Walter? Let's go!" Alucard whirled around when Seras Victoria approached and asked, "Master, what's happening?"

"The police have the bastard who kidnapped my Master," Alucard growled. "Let's go Walter."


	13. Chapter 13

Through the one-way mirror, Alucard was watching Sam intently. This man looked like a boy. A boy with blood on his hands and the ghost of a smile on his face.

Alucard and Walter had been here for hours watching this so-called interrogation and hardly a single word had been spoken so far by this boy. All they got out of him was his name. Sam. How completely… human.

Alucard impatiently paced back and forth. The police were throwing more questions in Sam's face. The only answer they got was a pleasured smile.

The puny being in the interrogation room was not going to crack for hours, at least, Alucard believed that to be the truth. But he was delightfully surprised when the boy opened his mouth and began to speak.

* * *

><p>Sam was in a room full of strangers. He was sitting in an uncomfortable chair. He could feel other people on the other side of that pane of one-way glass. And he could tell that the monster was there too. <em>Alucard.<em>

Even thinking of the name sent shivers down Sam's spine.

In spite of Sam's physical presence, his head wasn't really there. He was thinking about Stanley and Integra. Had Stan let her go? Maybe. Maybe not. It was hard to predict Stanley's judgement.

Sam was asked question after question. The only question he felt obliged to answer at this point was the one about his name. He was bored, really. And slightly nervous.

Eventually, Sam found the right time to start talking. He had to let the police know everything he had done, but not a single detail more.

Sam stood up, cleared his throat, and said, "It's really _cold_ here! I'm going to freeze and then you won't get a single word out of me."

"Sit!" Hissed a man, and Sam obeyed with no hesitation.

Sam cringed and lowered himself into the chair, but had to refrain from grinning maniacally. This was going to be too easy.

"No of course I can't have a coffee," Sam whispered under his breath.

"Alright. Let's begin," the man said, and Sam looked up at him with big ghoul-eyes that revealed a flash of amusement.

"Starting with murders from the past little while, we want to know if you killed some of these people," the man continued.

He pulled out a picture of a young girl. Sam looked at the picture, held it up above his face, tilted it and nodded.

"Yup. Killed 'er."

The man was taken abrupt at Sam's bluntness but continued nonetheless.

Next he revealed a picture of a young woman. Sam repeated his ritual and nodded once more.

"Prostitute? Yup. Dead."

"Both of these people were drained of blood," the man continued.

"I know," Sam stated crossly. "I killed them."

The man threw Sam a fierce glare and this time presented Sam with a number of photos. Most of the photos were photos of policemen.

Sam looked them over, unable to remember most of them. He held up one particular photo.

"Ah, Green," he whispered.

"Huh?"

"This is Green. I killed him with the least amount of malice I could manage. Was a good kid, you know. Do you have anything I can eat?"

The man refused to let Sam eat, naturally, and continued revealing photos. There were about three people Sam _didn't_ murder, and that shocked Sam. He liked to make _murderers_ afraid.

The man sighed. He had run out of photos to show and questions to ask. Now it was time to get to what those two shady men came here for.

"Where is Integra Hellsing?"

Sam grinned. "Integra Hellsing? Why do you ask?"

* * *

><p>Walter and Alucard perked up when the subject fell on Sir Integra. It would only be a matter of time before Sam would disclose her location.<p>

But the hope Alucard and Walter held was quickly eliminated when things didn't go according to plan.

"Oh yes," Sam droned. "Integra Hellsing. Feisty, _feisty_, woman I can tell you that!"

"What do you mean?" the man asked in a grave voice.

"She puts up a _wonderful_ fight! I'm surprised she's lasted _this long._"

"What are you talking about?"

Sam rolled his eyes and breathed, "_Idiot_." Sam got up from his chair and, although he was shorter than the man, he seemed to tower over him as well. A shadow fell across Sam's face, but his ghoul eyes were still bright with malicious intention.

Sam advanced on him, grinning.

* * *

><p>Walter and Alucard felt like they should do something, <em>anything<em>, to stop the chaos that was about to erupt in the interrogation room but both of them were frozen in place with equal looks of disbelief on their faces.

Sam had effortlessly pushed the man over. It was so effortless, in fact, that it was terrifying.

Something clicked in place in Walter's brain and he thought to himself, _Wasn't he wearing handcuffs?_ Walter thought back and was positive that they wouldn't allow him to go without handcuffs because they _knew_ what he was capable of. So how did he break free?

As if to personally taunt Walter, Sam reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out his handcuffs, then dropped them on the floor. He looked up for a moment and it was as if he was staring at Walter, staring _into _Walter.

Then Sam averted his gaze and set his sights back to the man on the ground.

"Please have mercy!" the man cried.

"Have mercy? No! That is- that is one of my _least_ favourite things to do." Sam reached down and lifted the man up in a graceful manor that was almost gentle. He placed his hands around the man's neck and struck his head against the wall multiple times, not enough to kill but enough to injure.

"Time to dance!" Sam exclaimed. He picked the man up under the arms and flung him across the room.

Walter looked around and the other officers were panicking, none of them wanting to go on a suicide mission into the interrogation room. Alucard was staring fixedly at Sam. Walter looked back and saw that Sam was whispering something to the man who was pinned underneath Sam.

Walter thought nothing of it. He was probably just muttering a few threats before he ended the man's life.

There was a different story for Alucard.

He could hear Sam's every word to the man, but just barely.

"What made you so sure I was even still in the country?" Sam asked. "I could have left any time with my brother and my hostage. Nothing is keeping me here. I could hop on a freight train as it goes by in the night and I would be away where nobody could find me." Sam grabbed the man with his hands on either side of his head and smashed his head into the wall, caving in his skull.

Alucard was unaware of Sam's escape. Instead, he was focusing on what Sam had said. A smile crept across Alucard's lips, feeling so unnatural yet seeming so necessary. Disaster was still occurring around Alucard, but he was completely oblivious. He allowed Sam to escape, but Alucard will find him now. He was sure of it.


	14. Chapter 14

Integra slowly lifted her head as she heard Sam outside her room.

She heard Sam and Stanley say a few words to each other, and then Integra knew he was headed her way.

The door burst open, slammed against the wall, and swung back to Sam who stopped it with a blood flecked hand.

"Integra," he whispered in a warm tone. "Have you been a good girl?"

Integra hung by her arms, unresponsive for a moment. Slowly but surely, her head nodded.

"Great," Sam breathed and flashed a toothy grin. "How are you?" Sam carefully made his way over to Integra and tilted her head up with a crimson finger. His eyes stared deep into hers.

"You wouldn't _believe_ who I saw today!" He exclaimed, retrieving the finger he had used to prop Integra's head up. Her head hung once more, her chin resting on her chest.

"Alucard," Sam said with a sly tone, "and Walter."

Integra let out a short gasp and instantly her head snapped upwards to stare at Sam, creating a lightning bolt of pain in her neck.

"What have you done?" She whispered furiously.

Sam cackled, and replied, "I did nothing… to them."

"_What have you done?_" Integra insisted.

"Well I paid the police a tiny visit. Then I took a few hours to get here because I'm happy. I took my time. I told _one person_ where we might possibly be and then," Sam giggled like a little boy, "_I killed him!_"

Sam giggled again and revealed his blade.

"And we all know what comes next," he whispered, grinning.

* * *

><p>Unlike Sam, Alucard had wasted no time. After the disaster at the police station, Alucard set out.<p>

_Freight trains._

Freight trains went everywhere. But Alucard didn't worry. He felt he wouldn't have to search long for his master.

Alucard could have followed Sam if he wanted to, but he felt that discovering where Sam had been hiding all this time on his own would be a reward.

Alucard had searched so many old and abandoned shacks that it was enough to drive him mad, but he felt that there was not a stone to be unturned.

So Alucard searched, but his search lasted only a few hours, because he came across a shack, something the many other ones never had. This one has his master. He could feel it.

* * *

><p>The instant Sam cut open Integra's arm the door leading outside opened with a loud and dramatic bang.<p>

Sam felt wrenching fear take hold of his heart. His chest felt tight and suffocating. _Alucard was here._

Sam didn't know how this was possible. How could Alucard have found them so quickly?

Sam nearly shouted at his own stupidity. '_I could hop on a freight train as it goes by in the night and I would be away where nobody could find me._' He forgot about vampire hearing.

His blade cut through Integra's flesh quickly, spilling blood over her arm in a waterfall. He just needed one drop, a single taste, and he could get them out of there safely.

* * *

><p>Alucard stepped into the shack and took in his surroundings. There was a cheap-looking dining set placed in the middle of an otherwise bare room, with one chair overturned.<p>

As Alucard observed the room with an eerie stillness, he hardly noticed the man standing in front of one of three doors in a hallway. Stanley stood wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Alucard finally noticed Stanley and took a step toward him. He cringed back instantly, his head knocking slightly on the door.

"Integra Hellsing is here," Alucard stated, and Stanley nodded. "She's in there," Alucard whispered.

"You can't go in here!" Stanley cried.

"Step aside, human," Alucard said with anger creeping into his voice.

"No, no, no you can't go in there!" Stanley resisted. Integra spoke often of her servant, and this _monster_ couldn't possibly be him, this demon from the depths of hell _could not _be Integra Hellsing's servant.

"Do you want to die, human?"

* * *

><p>Sam heard Stanley's exasperated cry and raised his head to look at the door. He switched his gaze to Integra and saw she had a victorious look on her face. She knew that Alucard was there as much as he did; she knew how close he was.<p>

Sam raised the hand that wasn't holding the blade and slapped Integra. Now only a victorious shadow lurked across her face.

Sam shivered and nearly yelped when a loud gunshot sounded throughout the shack.

The doorknob slowly turned and Sam saw it with a kind of clear vision. Every dull color in the room seemed brighter and sharper.

The doorknob finished it's painfully slow turn and the door creaked open. Suddenly, as though by a force a thousand times stronger than Sam, the door shot open and slammed against the wall.

Splinters of wood and clouds of dust created a dramatic fog in the air around the door.

Sam could see a body barely visible from where he was standing.

_Can it be Stan? No no not Stanley no no no _not_ Stan it _can't_ be this way it can't it can't-_

A figure that could only be Alucard stepped through the filthy mist, gun level with Sam's head, murder flashing boldly in his eyes.

"Uh…" Sam muttered. He had prepared so many speeches for this occasion. But now they were all gone. The timing wasn't right, _Sam wasn't ready yet._

Sam's shoulders slumped, his hopeful gaze lowering. There was no escape.

"Alucard," Integra started to say but was cut short when Sam's head flicked in her direction with unbelievable speed, his ghoul eyes shining.

His tongue shot out and licked Integra's arm, a sight which sickened Alucard. Sam turned toward him.

"Give me back my master!" he shouted. Sam only shook his head. Thick black smoke seemed to appear everywhere at once, and Alucard panicked. Alucard heard a metallic snap; the sound of Integra's handcuffs breaking. He had to stop himself from shooting blindly in fear of killing Integra.

"Alucard!" he heard her yell and groped blindly through the smoke. He caught hold of her fingers, but they were quickly pulled out of his hand. He thrust both his arms forward but she was gone.

* * *

><p>Alucard returned to the Hellsing manor after staying at the shack for far too long. Walter started to get worried.<p>

Walter was familiar with Alucard's plan. There was some small hope that Alucard had been successful.

But Alucard returned without Integra. But not empty handed. He returned clutching her suit jacket and ascot, items left behind in the shack.

Alucard refused any contact with anyone. He clutched his master's clothing and looked at his hand, flexing his fingers.

He _almost _had her. Her hand was in his _and he let her go._ Alucard felt sickened at himself for allowing him to kidnap her right under his nose _again._

Alucard decided that he would not rest until his master was safe again, whether it takes months or years. Alucard shivered.

_I hope it doesn't take that long,_ he thought solemnly and flexed his fingers once more.


	15. Chapter 15

Enrico Maxwell looked out the window and at the Protestant country from above. He averted his gaze and stared momentarily at the broad figure of Alexander Anderson, who was sitting cramped in one of the small seats of the airplane.

Maxwell looked out the window again, the flight starting to descend.

He had sent countless letters over to the Hellsing Organization trying to set up a date where Integra Hellsing could meet him, but he hadn't gotten a single word back. He had taken it upon himself to show up instead.

There were more vampires showing up than usual, all of them coming from this God forsaken country of filthy Protestants.

* * *

><p>Walter was looking through Integra's unopened mail for the first time in a quite a while, and with a feeling of growing dread he realized that the Iscariot Organization had been trying to contact Integra for quite some time.<p>

Letter after letter Walter discarded an envelope stamped 'Not Bomb,' and scanned each page, his eyes widening.

Walter scanned the last letter. It slid out of his hands and fluttered gracefully on top of the pile at Walter's feet.

Enrico Maxwell was going to show up. Just like that, he was going to show up and expect Integra Hellsing to be here. And when he does show up, how is Walter going to explain?

Alucard has been brooding in his room the whole time and although he had a habit of chatting up his victims, he was an efficient vampire hunter. Seras and the other teams have been trying to do just as thorough of a job, but without Alucard they seem to struggle. Walter had no doubt that the vampires that they had failed to exterminate have made their way to Section XIII territory.

It was strange, because Enrico Maxwell had once met with Integra for almost the exact same reason.

A small, inept thought crept into Walter's head, causing him to shiver.

_Reopening old wounds._

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Maxwell was standing in front of a large, gothic building.<p>

_This has to be the Hellsing Manor_, he thought. He contemplated each window in sight, expecting to see Integra Hellsing (_that lazy Protestant pig-sow) _lounging in an office chair, smoking one of the expensive cigars that he smelled on her clothing whenever they met.

But the manor looked empty, which triggered Maxwell's sense of caution. He instructed Anderson, who was nearly bouncing with excitement, to stay close at hand.

They approached the front door. Maxwell rang the bell and waited. The door opened and an old man with a monocle stood there, surveying them just as they were surveying him.

He gestured for the duo to come inside and as they stepped in Maxwell had to use all his will power to stop from whispering a remark to Anderson about how simply _Protestant _this house looked.

The old man opened his mouth to say something, but the familiar crimson figure of Alucard fell through the ceiling.

"Walter, you didn't tell me we were having company," Alucard observed.

Anderson noticed that the mocking grin Alucard frequently wore was missing from his features.

"We're supposed to be meeting with Sir Integra Hellsing," Maxwell stated.

Walter looked nervously from Maxwell and Anderson to Alucard and back. Any hint of emotion on Alucard's face dripped away to bitterness.

"Uh… Sir Hellsing is…" Walter started drifting off, trying to place the right words in his head. "Sir Hellsing was kidnapped, for lack of better term."

Maxwell's eyes widened, his mouth open slightly. He regained his composure quickly though, and took half a step away from Walter.

Alucard's frown had turned bitter and venomous.

"What? What is this about?" Maxwell challenged, thinking that someone had made a fool of him. He looked up at Anderson, allowing the look of bewilderment to appear on his face for one instant.

Both Anderson and Alucard shifted uncomfortably, both of them itching to grab their weapons.

"Please follow me and I will explain everything."

Walter led Maxwell and Anderson through many halls (_Protestant halls_), and eventually led them to a conference room.

"Would you like tea?" Walter asked out of habit. Maxwell nodded indifferently and Walter left the room. Maxwell felt absolutely filthy sitting in this obscene Protestant house, in this disgusting Protestant country. Walter returned shortly after with tea. Maxwell refused to drink his.

Alucard had disappeared, which was a relief on Walter's part because he wouldn't be able to stand the collateral damage of a fight on top of trying to find Integra.

Walter explained everything and watched as what he had just said sunk in.

"And I apologize for the insufficiency of the Hellsing Organization at this time," Walter finished.

"So you're telling me that Sir Integra Hellsing was kidnapped and is being held hostage by a homicidal maniac, who still remains to taunt the Hellsing Organization?"

Walter nodded. Maxwell gazed at him suspiciously. Nobody could make something this sick, this obnoxious, a joke and tell it as well as Walter had been doing. So it must be true.

This information shed new light on the situation of the Iscariot Organization's problem. Maxwell understood that, while Integra was away, there would be nobody to act as the leader of the Hellsing Organization. The rest of the Organization could try to operate to their full advantage but, like a country, they cannot execute their purpose without their leader.

"I understand that the process of exterminating vampires has slowed since that rather traumatic event, so I understand why you have come here," Walter continued.

"What about the vampire Alucard?" Anderson inquired, speaking up for the first time since his arrival.

"Ah," breathed Walter, "I don't believe anyone would understand the kind of bond that Alucard has with Integra, and this affair has been hardest on Alucard. He seems to be in some kind of state where he is unable to accept that there is nothing any of us can do. He refuses to do his job until Sir Hellsing is found which may take a while."

Maxwell and Anderson exchanged confused looks. Walter was correct; they _didn't _understand the connection between Servant and Master.

"And I apologize that your journey here was counterproductive," Walter finished. "And since there's nothing more you can do here, I'll show you out."

Maxwell and Anderson followed Walter through the halls one more time, and the instant they both stepped outside the front door to the manor slammed shut.

Anderson opened his mouth to say something, but he was quickly silenced when a bullet rushed through his skull. The tall Scottish man collapsed foreword with a thump, a bullet hole displaying a tunnel of gore.

Maxwell stared wide-eyed at the priest lying face down on the concrete. Maxwell averted his gaze just in time to see a crimson arm disappear through the wall.

Anderson heaved himself up off the ground, the bullet wound completely healed. He was unscathed, but looked very pissed off, and had every right to be.

Maxwell and Anderson headed away from Hellsing Manor. Anderson threw a resentful glance back at the manor. He didn't take too kindly to being shot in the head, but fighting Alucard was amusing. Without Integra, there were no fights, no entertainment. Perhaps finding the Whore of Babylon wouldn't be a waste.

* * *

><p>Walter watched as the regenerator got to his feet and walked away. A sigh escaped Walter's lips. Alucard couldn't contain himself, even through his grieving.<p>

Alucard stepped through the wall and stood beside Walter.

"You should be asleep," Walter commented. It was about midday.

"I won't sleep again until I find her," Alucard said blankly. "What did they want?"

"They were here because you weren't doing your job, Alucard." Walter had tried to be gentle about the statement, but was unsuccessful.

Alucard bashed his fists against the wall he had come through moments earlier and shut his eyes tightly.

"Nobody understands…" he whispered. Realising that that phrase meant something to him, he repeated it, this time louder and full of anger. "Nobody understands, Walter! Nobody understands!"

Alucard whirled around to face Walter. Walter took a step back, afraid at what the depressed vampire might do to the Angel of Death.

Alucard's arms reached out to Walter, who took another step back. The vampire's fingers reached out and grasped the fabric of Walter's vest.

Alucard's face was close to Walter's, but he felt no reason to refrain from shouting.

"Why don't you try to find her?" He shouted. Walter tried to escape Alucard's grasp but could not. "WHY WON'T YOU TRY HARDER TO _FIND_ HER?" Alucard threw Walter to the floor. For a moment Walter saw stars, and once the stars cleared Alucard was gone.

Walter's head had started to pound, and one of his arms felt badly bruised. He lay, sprawled on the floor for a while, until the hammer beating against his skull stopped and finally heaved himself up. There was a lot of work to be done. Integra Hellsing wasn't going to be found whilst lying on the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter was extremely difficult for me, because I wasn't sure if I got the characters of Anderson and Maxwell correct. Please send me a message or review if you think that they are out of character. So, I would like to thank theMarauders1979 for helping me out with figuring out their characters. I'd also like to thank Storm Riddle for helping me as well. I recommend Storm's Hellsing FanFiction, it's really great. Please review if you want, thankya. <strong>


	16. Chapter 16

Integra woke up with a groan. Her eyes remained closed, but a few moments later a painful kick to the ribs forced her eyes open. Integra's hands covered where she had been struck and her eyes scanned the figure of Sam standing over her.

"It's about time you woke up. You've been asleep since we left that shack almost three days ago," he whispered in a dangerous tone.

"Where are we?" Integra asked in a raspy voice.

Sam bent down, hands on hips and said gently, "That's none of your concern, dahh-ling." Sam flicked Integra's nose and turned his back to her. Integra rubbed her nose and attempted to stand up, but fell back down.

"Look around Integra. You seem to be a smart woman. This is a rather large building that _looks_ like people could store things in. What kind of buildings are those?"

Integra blinked and said, "We're in a warehouse?"

Sam clapped his hands dramatically and shouted, "Oh you smart woman! It's a small, small warehouse, but still a warehouse all the same!" Sam paced around Integra, creating clouds of dust and dirt with every footfall. "That was an… unexpected surprise from your organization the other day. Aren't we lucky we got away?"

"Stop mocking my people!" Integra tried to shout, but all that came out was a strained whisper.

"You are in no position to be acting so bold!" Sam screamed and struck Integra. She glared at him with burning fury in her eyes. Sam stared back the same way.

"I'm just waiting for Stan to get back and then things will be like they always were, so don't you worry dear," Sam whispered.

"Stanley was killed, was he not?"

"Stanley is alive!" Sam shouted. "He can't be dead. I wouldn't _allow_ him to die. _He isn't dead!_"

"I saw his body," Integra said. "Nobody can live with that much blood flowing out of them." Integra managed to produce a smile on her dry, blood-caked lips. Integra wasn't happy Stanley was dead. On the contrary, she was quite unhappy. Stanley was the one who made sure she remained alive. He made sure she was as comfortable as possible. Now there was only Sam.

"You…" Sam breathed, "you fucking… fucking _bitch!_" Sam placed the sole of one dirty, old and ratty shoe on Integra's forehead and forced her to lean back and lie down. He increased the pressure of his foot on her face until it felt like he was going to crush her skull.

"_I WILL DO IT!_" He shouted, his voice quivering with rage. He removed his foot and instead brought out one of his blades, holding it to her throat. Sam leaned foreword, his face so close to Integra's that she could feel his hot breath on her face.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered in a gravelly tone. "I hope you are." Sam stood up, twirling his blade in between his fingers. "I brought many people here, and to the other place too. I did the same thing to them as I'm doing to you. Except they would have died by now. But not you Integra Hellsing, no, no, I'm taking extra precautions so that you won't die. Not until you're insane. I have brought on insanity you know. I know what it'll take. You have every right to be afraid but I _don't think you are_."

Integra looked around. When her gaze settled back on Sam, she said, "You're insane. It's rational to be afraid while around a mad freak like yourself."

Sam chuckled. "Integra, Integra, Integra… There _is _no rationality, not anymore." He advanced on Integra, who didn't have the will to move.

"Your nose is bleeding," Sam commented. Integra's hand flew up and felt the small trickle of blood leaking out of her nose. Sam took her hand and forced it by her side. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and touched just above her lips, where her blood had started collecting in a pool before it dribbled down either side of her face.

Sam moaned a small pleasured moan before whispering, "There's always something so wonderful about nose-blood." He cackled at his remark and continued licking up the thinning stream of blood from Integra's nose. She turned her head away, but he gently tilted her head up at his again. She hardly noticed the cold touch of his hands creeping up her shirt. His hand stopped on her ribs.

"Hm. You're soft," Sam commented in a nonchalant tone. Integra quivered. She was pinned beneath Sam and could not escape no matter how hard she tried. Her eyes widened as she felt the sharp edge of a blade pressed against her ribs.

"Sam, no," she whispered frantically. "Don't do that."

"I think I will." She could feel Sam's hand exploring her ribs. Shortly she felt the point of the blade stop in between two of her ribs. She could see the blade standing erect just above her skin.

"I think here should do it," Sam said to himself. He gazed intently into Integra's eyes and asked, "What do you think?"

"No. Don't." Integra stared back into his ghoul eyes, her fear showing clearly. Sam grinned. He entered the tip of his blade into her skin. He grinned at her sudden intake of breath. Integra felt dizzy when she saw the crimson flower blossoming on her shirt.

Integra shoved Sam off of her with a newfound strength and jumped to her feet, clutching her wound.

"Don't come near me!" Along with strength, Integra found her voice. It sounded clear and forceful, just as her voice usually did. The only difference was the fear hiding behind her words.

"Where're ya goin' to go?" Sam asked in a silky voice, a deadly look falling upon his features.

"Just _stay away_!" Integra shrieked. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she breathed short, rapid breaths. Integra's abdomen was painted scarlet with the blood from her wound. With every breath she took more blood seeped out of the incision.

"Ah shit," she heard Sam breath. She watched him go towards the large, warehouse door that she doubted was even capable of opening and approached a rectangular area in the wall. There he opened a door, and left Integra in the open space, heading down a hallway and into the area that had once been called an office. Sam returned shortly and approached Integra. She took one step back for every step he took foreword.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." Integra looked at his face and saw he was sincere. He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. All he was holding was a roll of bandages. She stood still and allowed him to approach her. "Now how the fuck did Stanley do this… Sit," Sam commanded and Integra obeyed. He crouched beside her and rolled his eyes. "Lay down. How am I supposed to help you this way?" Integra obeyed again, loathing every moment that Sam's fingers brushed against her skin.

"This place used to be a warehouse," he said casually. "They were going to tear it down… and they started to. Then they gave up. So I adopted the building as a 'Plan B' type thing. Well, I think you're alright." Sam stood up and returned to the secluded area from before. His footfalls sounded muffled on the filthy ground. She heard one more door close, and sighed as she was left alone.

Integra clutched the dishevelled bandage that wrapped around her torso. A few dry sobs escaped her. Every time she thought of seeing Alucard standing in the doorway, surrounded by a cloud of dust; every time she remembered the feeling of his fingers gripping hers and then slipping, slipping, slipping away… Every time she thought of these things it dawned on her that she had been close to escaping and now was enclosed in her tomb once again.

Integra squeezed her eyes shut. She grimaced as she thought of these things and how she could have saved herself. She could have leaned foreword an inch more and use her other hand to hold on to her Servant. Once Alucard had a hold of her, he could have easily pulled her out of Sam's grip. Sam was strong, but Alucard was more so. Sam wouldn't have been able to hold onto her if his life depended on it. And if Integra would have tried to save herself, then maybe his life _would_ have depended on it.

She let out a shaky, exasperated sigh and wondered how Alucard was coping with losing his master for a second time. She would have laughed if she knew that at this moment, her Servant had just shot Alexander Anderson in the head.

Trying to avoid thinking of her Servant, Integra thought about what Sam was telling her earlier. It was a warehouse, yes. It looked like _someone_ had tried doing construction on it, yes. There were copper stains on the walls. In some of the dirt on the ground it looked as though there was some struggle there. So had Sam taken people here? Yes. Absolutely yes.

The stains on the walls seemed to jump out at Integra now that she had noticed them. She huddled on the ground, her mind racing. She couldn't understand what she was thinking. It felt like some thread was being pulled apart in her head. She could feel the pull of imaginary tendons, ripping and stretching to utterly impossible lengths.

Integra lay on her side, her face pressed against the cool dirt on the ground. Her eyes were unnaturally wide, and her breathing was coming in gasps.

_What is happening to me?_ She wondered frantically. Integra could feel her heart pounding in her chest, even though she had no reason to be afraid at this moment.

_Sam killed people here. Because of me._ The intense tearing in her mind worsened, and she groaned.

With all her will power Integra stopped breathing and cleared her head. She sat up, still holding her breath and brushed the dirt from her face. Integra let out her breath slowly and breathed in equally slowly. She repeated this until she felt calmer and her breathing regulated. Nonsensical thoughts attempted to wind their intricate pattern through her head again. She forced them out and tried to keep them away with all the mental power she could muster.

A small grin crept upon her lips. Her organization hadn't given up on her. And if they found her once, they could find her again. Sam would obviously be more cautious, but it wasn't completely impossible that she wouldn't be found one more time.

Integra sat on the filthy ground, eyes closed, thinking with the small grin still splayed across her face. If Sam would have walked in at that moment, he would have seen how truly beautiful she really was. Although it was an icy beauty she was blessed with, it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it had caused a flutter in her Servant's stomach many times.

Integra's smile grew slightly at the corners. Her organization still had hope for her, which gave her hope as well.

* * *

><p>Sam sat in a small room, on a small mattress. It was nearly daytime, and he wanted to get to sleep. But he wasn't tired. He was thinking of Stanley.<p>

With the few moments that Sam was able to look at Stanley before he escaped he saw everything. Integra was right; Stanley couldn't be alive. He saw Stanley with his own ghoulish eyes. He saw the blood spilling out of Stanley. Stanley had landed on his back, so Sam only saw a trickle of blood spilling out of the small hole. But Sam had enough imagination to envision what the exit wound would have looked like.

The trickle of blood flowing from where the bullet entered had formed a puddle on Stanley's chest. His shirt had absorbed most of it; some of it seeped onto his midsection, where his shirt resumed its position of the blood absorber. But the rest that couldn't be absorbed streamed on either side of his chest or onto his stomach, where it flowed in small waterfalls off of his body. More blood was being pumped weakly by his heart, which was failing rapidly due to the bullet that had passed through it. The trickles of blood that managed to appear on his chest and leak off landed in a much larger puddle beneath Stanley's limp body. Even though Sam was only able to glimpse Stanley for a moment, the pool beneath him seemed to double in size. The exit wound would have been a little smaller than a basketball, depending on what type of gun Alucard used and how far away he was. But Sam knew that the exit wound was a huge gaping hole. The size didn't matter, only that the hole was there and a large part of his brother was not.

Sam wasn't there when his brother was killed, so his imagination had been pleasant enough to form the scene of Stanley's death on its own. He could imagine Stanley being shot. For a moment Stanley looked surprised, and that was the look Sam caught a quick glimpse of in his moment of escape. His brother's face was frozen in shock, his eyes wide but glassy, staring into an unknown world. Alucard's bullet would have passed through him quickly, not even slowing down as it penetrated Stanley's flesh and pierced his heart, only speeding up as it ate its way through Sam's brother. In Sam's mind, Stanley had fallen backward, the blood only starting to flow now. But as soon as he hit the ground, legs crumpled beneath him, the tissue of his wound gently bleeding, the hole exploded in blood from both sides. Stanley's neck and chin were covered in a thick sheet of blood, but above those spots, there were just small dots of blood. The same thing couldn't be said about the back of Stanley's head, though. When he fell, the flow of blood started faster, and being quick as it was, he bled out what seemed like an ocean's worth of blood in less than a minute. From his fall he could have fractured his skull, his scalp cut open and adding to the collection of blood on the ground.

Sam shivered. He hated thinking about his brother's

(_he's not dead not dead not dead still alive very alive_)

mishap.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images of Stanley lying in a pool of crimson. Sam opened his eyes hesitantly a few moments later and sighed a long, disgruntled sigh. He hoped that he could talk to Alucard and help him see his potential as a free vampire. It could be achieved, and if Alucard agreed then Sam would have made him promise to let him keep Integra, have his way with her.

But Alucard was too attached to the frail, miserable thing that was now in the warehouse. And then Alucard killed Stanley.

Sam chuckled. Coalition was off for both parties now, it seemed.

Sam managed to get a few hours of sleep, but it was a restless slumber filled with horrible dreams. Sam felt glad when his eyes finally fluttered open. He couldn't have been able to bear any more time inside his own head.

Sam went to leave the warehouse, checking on Integra once before he left. She was sitting against a wall sleeping, her head hanging foreword. Her breathing was normal and she wasn't bleeding as far as Sam could tell, so he left.

* * *

><p>On the night Alucard had shambled back to Hellsing Manor after being unable to save his master, Walter had ordered some of the most competent men the Hellsing Organization had to offer to do a thorough sweep of the shack that Alucard had described. The vampire refused to go with them, even to show the way, so they had to keep in constant contact.<p>

"I have a feeling that you'll know that you're at the right shack when you see it." Walter continued to reassure the men.

When they had finally found the shack they were looking for, Walter got the men to make sure there was no danger. After the area was secured, Walter ordered the men back. In the morning Walter accompanied them back to the shack. It was small. There was only three rooms and the entrance way.

Walter looked in every room, becoming more surprised as he went along. In the entrance area there was overturned and broken furniture, where there was perhaps a struggle or just leftovers from someone else. In front of one door there was a large puddle of blood that was still slightly wet. Walter received a report that a body had been taken away from the site the previous night.

In the first room, there was almost nothing. It was only an old bathroom. Walter tried the sink, and no water came out. The shack had probably been cut off from the water works for years. Walter searched the second room, where there was a single bed and nothing more. The third room surprised Walter immensely and sickened him just as much.

In the third room there were two pipes on the walls that had been stripped down to expose them. Attached to the each pipe was the bracelet to a handcuff. Walter had no doubt that Integra had been strung up between the pipes like a puppet. There were small stains of blood on the ground, and Walter avoided them, instead heading back out into the main area. He did a more accurate search of this area, looking at all the furniture. There were a few chairs that were upturned, a table that was missing a leg, and a very out of place sofa.

He soon returned to the Hellsing Manor to do any type of official paperwork that needed to be done. There wasn't much paperwork, and he went to take a look at the body they had recovered from the shack.

Walter went to get Alucard, but was very afraid to do so. The vampire seemed stable enough, so Walter asked Alucard to see the body and tell him what happened. So the vampire went willingly enough with Walter to see the body and told him in a dull, flat voice:

"He wanted to stop me from getting my Master so I shot him." That was all Alucard would say, and that answer satisfied Walter.

Walter did another small amount of paperwork and went to bed, resolving to call the police in the morning to inform them about the shack and request that they investigate.

Walter's plans were delayed with the unexpected arrival of Enrico Maxwell and Alexander Anderson, so Walter waited until the next day to phone the police. They cooperated easily enough, and now the shack and the body they discovered were in the hands of the police.

The police did a larger investigation, and were less discreet about it then the Hellsing Organization.

They were about to leave the murder scene for the day after tearing apart the building looking for evidence. The outside was bustling with police officers who couldn't cram themselves into the small shack. The man from the Hellsing Organization called and asked for, "All of your best men… and more." So they had quite a few officers there.

One officer was on his break, standing behind the shack smoking a cigarette. He paced a little bit, and then something caught his eye. There was a man, standing and staring at the shack. He must have felt the officers gaze because he approached him shouting, "Hey! Hey you!"

They officer shouted back, "Sir, you can't be here! This is a crime scene!" The man and the officer approached each other.

"What the fuck is going on here?" The man shouted. "I go away for a vacation and I find out that the shack I just fucking bought was turned into a crime scene!"

"You-you own this shack?" The officer asked timidly.

"Yeah."

"The records say that this place isn't owned…"

"Well too bad. It's fucking owned. By me. What happened here?" The man asked, calming down a bit.

"There's been kidnapping and murder we think is associated with this building. I shouldn't be telling you that though…"

The man chuckled. "You go away for a while and some jerk-off turns your shack into a fucking slaughterhouse."

"Where did you go for vacation?" The officer asked.

The man flashed a toothy grin and answered, "America."

"Oh… well… Hey, have I seen you before?" The officer asked. The more he looked at the man, the more he seemed familiar. He tried to look directly into the man's face, but the man was looking down. All the officer could see was the man's mouth and nose. The rest was concealed by shadows.

The man's mouth was now frozen in a constant grin, which grew at the edges as he answered.

"I've been on TV before," he replied simply.

"Why?"

"Oh… you know, just some reporter interviewing me about… uh… I don't even remember."

"Why'd you buy this old place?" The officer asked, trying to make conversation. Hopefully another officer would come by shortly and escort the mysterious man away from the crime scene.

"Aw you know… I was gonna fix this place up and, you know, and it'd be a place where I can escape from all the idiots back home in the hustle and bustle of the city. Hey, were there any bodies here?" the man asked suddenly.

"Uh yeah we had one but… I shouldn't tell you that."

The man looked a little sick and asked in a hushed voice, "I want to see where it was found."

"No I can't-"

"Please…" he pleaded.

"Fine." The officer led the man into the shack, trying his best to avoid the questions other officers were asking. "Here it is." He pointed towards a dark crimson stain on the floor.

"They were dead?" the man asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh God!" the man shouted and sprinted out, a hand covering his mouth.

"Hey!" the officer followed until they were out behind the shack again. The man was standing doubled over with his hand still over his mouth.

"He's dead, he's dead…" the man was whispering.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright? Sir-" The officer cringed and took a step backward. The man looked up at the officer, shaking but grinning insanely. The man's eyes were deep black holes that bore into the officer's soul and read his mind; they forced fear to strike the officer's heart violently.

"He's dead, he's dead, he's fucking dead, fucking dead, dead, dead," the man raved.

"Sir? What's happening? Do you know anything about this?"

"Oh you policemen, you're _all_ alike. You're all prying little _pricks_, you know that?"

The man's demented grin widened even more, seeming to stretch across his face and nearly reach his ears. The police officer had a bewildered expression that remained on his face, even as the man's fist connected with his face, breaking the officer's nose. The officer cried out in pain and surprise and fell backward.

"Yes," the man cried, "yes I know _everything_ about this. I did it!" He punched the officer again, adding a strong kick to go along.

The man pointed to himself and said, "I'm Sam. The one who's killed plenty of… police officers… innocent citizens…and _kidnapped_. In this very building!" Sam punched the officer again, drew his arm back, and then hit the officer again. Sam repeated this over and over, the officer's cries eventually growing weaker. The officer's face was now a bloody mess, but Sam didn't refrain from continuing to strike the officer. Once the officer's heavy breathing quit, Sam drew back, kicked the body one more time and walked away with his hands shoved in his pockets. Nobody confronted him, just like when he approached.

He waited until the not a single officer could see him, and then me fell to his hands and knees sobbing dramatically.

It was confirmed. Stanley was dead.


	17. Chapter 17

"_Wake up!_" The shriek seemed to pierce Integra's skull, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

"_WAKE UP!_" The howl was louder now. Integra's eyes flickered open and quickly squeezed shut again as she saw Sam standing over her.

Sam grabbed Integra by the ratty collar of her shirt, pulled her up from the floor, and shook her violently. "_Bitch wake up!_"

Integra's eyes flew open, her glasses slipping off her nose and onto the ground. Sam picked her glasses up with one hand and smashed them on her face, creating a streak of dust on her features. She blinked frantically, trying to get the dirt out of her eyes. Sam pushed Integra down again and she let out a small, surprised grunt as she landed on the ground.

"Are you awake now?" he asked, his voice higher than usual. Integra nodded her head slowly, her eyes wide. Any illusion of sleepiness she had vanished.

"What? It's not like you haven't seen me before! _Stop staring!_" Sam brought a hand down and struck Integra, leaving a red mark on her face.

Sam was something to be staring at, though. He wasn't acting unlike his usual cocky, arrogant self. Even in the way he was standing over Integra, he seemed different. Sam looked so uptight and worried; his face was blotchy and red as though he had just been crying.

"_There's nothing wrong with me!_" he screeched, seeing her eyes surveying him. Sam flicked out his blade and lashed out at Integra. Integra scooted backwards out of habit, and hardly cried out as Sam's blade tore through her skin again.

Integra looked at her arm with disinterest. Her skin was tender, and it still hurt like hell, but she had gotten used to the moment of hot pain flaring in the same place on her arm, in the same jagged line. Her gaze shifted back to Sam, who was looking at her with wide, haunted eyes.

"_Stop it!_" Sam howled, pulling Integra up from the ground, his fingers digging into her open wound. In his eyes he showed hatred, fear and slight loneliness, although Integra felt no pity.

Integra didn't have the energy to react to Sam. She was tired, hungry, and uncomfortable. Her vision was oddly coloured and blurry, but that could have been due to the fact that her glasses were filthy.

Sam saw Integra's under reaction as an insult. Her servant had just killed the only person he cared about, other than himself, and no matter how much he wanted Stanley dead, he couldn't live without his brother.

Sam didn't want things to change now, when he needed everything to stay on track. Stanley's death was a large alter in Sam's seemingly flawless plan, and he was trying to get back on track. But with Integra _mocking_ him with her cool gaze, _insulting_ him with only a small cry of pain, that pushed Sam even more towards the edge where he was already just a small step away from plummeting down forever.

He glared at Integra, searching her tired eyes for more mockery, and in the depths of Sam's insanity he found the ridicule deep in her eyes.

"You think I'm funny?" Sam shouted, a small amount of his saliva spraying onto her face. "You think this is a _joke?_"

Sam lowered his head to her gently bleeding arm, as he had always done. But Integra's eyes widened as she yelped in agony. Sam sunk his teeth into her wound, tearing it open at the edges. Warm blood was cascading off her arm and into Sam's open mouth where it fell down his face, dribbling off his chin and streaking down his cheeks like tracks of crimson tears, all the way down to his neck.

Integra stumbled backwards in surprise and pain, clutching her arm to her body.

"I'll kill you! There's nothing stopping me!" Sam spat. "There's no Stanley here anymore! Your servant took care of that!"

"You told me you wanted him dead!" Integra cried.

Sam took a step back, his mouth open as if to protest what Integra just said.

"_I _wanted to kill him!" Sam hissed.

"If that's all you're upset about, then you're more selfish than I thought. If your brother only mattered to you so you could brag about being his murderer, then you have no right to be agitated by his death," Integra stated matter-of-factly.

"Don't be so _bold!_" Sam screeched, irrationality taking over his mind as he threw his blade at her. Integra easily ducked out of the way, still holding her injured arm. She made no efforts to try and retrieve the blade for herself.

"And you know," Sam said, his voice sounding slightly out of breath from shouting, "we aren't so different. We've both wanted to kill our family. The only difference is that you got to _kill_ your family!"

"Be quiet!" Integra yelled, trying to stop the bleeding in her arm. "Shut up! You don't know anything about my family!"

"I know more than you might think! You can't just expect me to get the urge one day to steal you from your organization! This was years and years of careful _fucking_ planning! I know so much about you that I could write your life down in a detailed book without leaving anything out!"

Integra stared at him, taking in air in large gasps.

"But you know how else we're the same?" Sam asked, his voice lowering. "We both deserve to die…" And with that, Sam left Integra to bleed on the floor. And as Integra watched Sam leave, a small but terrifying thought crossed her mind.

_Oh God, he's right._

* * *

><p>Alucard sat in his chair, his emotions brewing inside of him, his thoughts feeding that disturbed mixture of feelings that was concocted in his mind.<p>

He sat, staring at the wall which he had permanently damaged with his bullets, with empty wine bottles, and even his fists.

Alucard grasped a new bottle of wine, pondering whether or not to open it. He'd been deciding against it for hours, but the alcohol allowed his emotions to run more freely, and perhaps it would let the toxic mixture of his feelings out.

Nobody dared approach Alucard, not even Walter. Alucard hadn't seen Seras in weeks, and that was alright. Her voice would probably annoy him.

Alucard had stopped pitying himself over losing his master. He forced himself to realize that moping would get him nowhere. Alucard was still worried horribly about his master, but he decided that he needed to start taking more action because nobody else would do so.

And that pissed him off.

At first everyone was trying to find Integra, but now it seemed like everyone had given up on her. Even Walter.

Alucard was having frequent arguments with Walter, some of which had ended quite gruesomely. Alucard squeezed his eyes shut.

_I'm doing my best, Alucard!_

Alucard knew he shouldn't lash out at the butler, especially since Alucard wasn't doing much himself, but Alucard felt like nobody would listen to him otherwise. Whoever said persuasion was better than force was a fool.

_You aren't doing _shit_, Walter!_

And Alucard sat below the world in his large throne-like chair, clenching his fists together, his eyes shut just as tightly. His stomach felt tight with cramps, probably from drinking wine instead of blood.

Alucard got up slowly, stretching once he was standing on two feet. Alucard walked out of his room with a slight uneasiness about his own step.

Once he was out of his room he felt slightly better- the air down where he had been for the past few days had a strange stench to it- and Alucard drew in a deep breath to clear his thoughts.

Alucard calmly walked through the halls, trying to think of where that bastard would take his master.

Alucard hardly took any notice of Walter, who was heading in the opposite direction. He nearly let Walter go by without a passing glance, but wanted to get a few words in with the old man.

"Walter."

Walter shrunk back as Alucard spoke his name slowly. "Yes Alucard?"

Alucard turned to face Walter, his eyes fiery with rage. It pissed him off to see Walter walking down these halls so casually as if he had not a single care in the world. He should have been on the phone or meeting with someone that could help find Integra. And the fact that he wasn't really pissed Alucard off.

"Shouldn't you be doing something?" Alucard asked, growling quietly.

Walter narrowed his eyes as he stared at Alucard in annoyance.

"I've been doing quite a bit, Alucard," Walter said with a hint of irritation.

"Really? I haven't noticed," Alucard replied, trying not to lose his temper just yet.

"What do you want me to do? I've already told you that I'm doing the best I can! I might ask you what you're doing for Sir Integra, other than sitting and drinking wine all day and night!" Walter shouted. He was just as tired of Alucard's insufficiency as Alucard was with him.

"I've been thinking!" Alucard roared, although he knew his argument was weak.

A few minutes of pointless bickering passed between the two of them, Walter's face growing red with rage, Alucard's hands clenched tightly into fists again.

"Damn it, Walter," Alucard breathed, running his fingers through his hair. "This is so _pointless._"

Walter nodded in agreement. "Go do your _job_, Alucard," Walter said, although his voice was quiet. "Neither of us are helping Sir Integra by arguing. I've had enough. Go do your job."

Alucard threw Walter an angry glance, ready to break out in another argument if needed. But instead Alucard nodded and walked away from Walter.


	18. Chapter 18

Enrico Maxwell signed his name in neat, cursive script. What he had just signed to he didn't know nor did he care. He just wanted to give his hand a rest. It had been oddly busy. There had been a large number of vampires running around to which Maxwell had to send more troops to fight. Longer hours meant they needed more pay. More pay meant he had to sign more paperwork. And signing paperwork was strangely tiring. And tiring meant… Obviously it meant Maxwell deserved a rest. Of course. He had been working just as hard as everyone else.

He sat back in his chair, slumping and hanging his head, allowing himself a few moments of deep thought and then straightened, letting out a deep sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. He stripped one hand of its white glove, placing that hand on his face. And again he sat in thought. He slipped his hand back inside the glove, flexing his fingers. He was ready to begin working again, but his attention was drawn away from his work as he heard a single knock on his door and looked up in time to see Anderson had already invited himself in.

"Can I help you Anderson?" Maxwell asked in a flat voice, gazing at the tall man.

"Damn right you can help me!" Anderson exclaimed, slamming a fist onto Maxwell's desk.

Maxwell looked from Anderson's tightly curled fist to his face, which was red with anger.

"And how may I help you?" Maxwell inquired, disinterested. He stared at Anderson with a bored expression, examining his enraged features.

Anderson seemed almost shocked at Maxwell's apathy, and his angry features softened temporarily.

"I see," Maxwell said dryly. "Don't just stand there and waste my time, I'm rather busy."

"Oh!" Anderson said hotly. "That's rich. _You're _busy? I think not, Maxwell! If you think this is busy, perhaps you should take a look at the people you work with! You've got people dropping like flies from exhaustion, and the stress is killing us!"

Maxwell nodded curtly and peered at Anderson with a cool, taunting gaze. "And how am I supposed to resolve your health problems?"

Anderson clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking. "There are heathens _everywhere!_ We can't contain them! It's too much for us! Why, I've been on duty for days! I'm just about at the end, Maxwell!"

Maxwell raised a thin eyebrow at Anderson, crossing his arms over his chest. "And all these vampires… Most of them happen to be coming from the Protestant country?"

Anderson nodded, taking a calming breath. He felt slightly victorious. He had expected Maxwell to act more ignorant to the situation.

"Well as I said earlier," Maxwell said calmly, returning his attention to his paperwork, "I happen to be very busy. Go back to work."

For a moment Anderson stood in shocked silence, watching his superior take a sip of coffee from the small mug on his desk. He watched the man sign his name neatly, not pausing to read what he had just approved of.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me-" Anderson started saying, but was cut off.

"No, I heard you quite well Anderson. Now go away. The faster you get to work the faster this problem will be dealt with."

And again that shocked silence. His tired eyes were widened, and his exhausted body tensed up.

"This is not a problem we can deal with locally!" Anderson shouted. Maxwell looked up in slight surprise.

"We can't… We just can't! This is impossible!" Anderson continued.

"And how do you suggest we proceed?" Maxwell asked, an infuriating grin creeping onto his features.

"Well I can tell you that we don't proceed by sitting on our asses all day!"

"Watch the language," Maxwell warned, his grin gone.

"I won't!" Anderson resisted.

"And how have you decided we should resolve this?" Maxwell asked, his former tone of bored unkindness wavering on impatience.

"I say that we help the Hellsing woman," Anderson said confidently.

Maxwell's eyes widened with shock at Anderson's suggestion.

"Absolutely not!" he shouted.

"And why not?" Anderson shouted back.

"Do you forget that she happens to be a _Protestant_? All this activity with the vampires only means that the sow is incompetent and that her organization will fail."

"Idiot! Her organization is facing a desperate time! Is it not the Catholic way to help those in need?" Anderson pointed out, his patience growing thin.

"We don't help Protestants," Maxwell said pompously.

"Maxwell, that woman is a damn good leader if I ever saw one! We need to assist, if not to help them then to help us!"

"Absolutely not!" Maxwell shrieked, his face livid with anger. "No amount of persuasion can get me to help that whore of a woman!"

"Oh fine," Anderson retaliated. "While the rest of _your_ organization is running day and night, why don't you just sit here drinking your damned _coffee_ all day!"

"I've heard enough from you, Anderson! Get out!" Maxwell had a good idea that the two of them had built up an audience outside the office.

"Fine I'll leave! But you're an awful leader if you don't accept this is what needs to be done." Anderson's voice had dropped to a grave and serious tone, and Maxwell stood up.

"What does that mean?!" He cried, angry and afraid.

Was he really 'an awful leader?' No. Of course not, Anderson was just mad. Enrico Maxwell was a good leader, he was an absolutely fine leader, he was sure of it, he _had _to be sure of it.

"It means," Anderson explained, his voice rising again, "that your arrogance is going to kill us! We need the help and so do they! If you were in the same position as Integra Hellsing, you would expect full cooperation from everyone! Even from the Protestants!"

For a moment Maxwell was silenced. Anderson had spoken a cold truth. He stood behind his desk, taking deep breaths and thinking. Anderson was right, of course he was. The priest wouldn't have stormed into his office unless he was positive that he was right. These two organizations needed each other, and while one can function without the other, both of them being fully operational is ideal. And if Enrico Maxwell was ever faced with a life threatening situation, he would expect the Hellsing Organization to aid Section XIII in every way possible.

"Anderson…" he spoke in a small, fragile voice, the voice of an afraid child. It was as if he was unsure, unsure of the tall man before him, unsure of his position behind this desk, unsure of the whole world.

"G…Get out." Maxwell had to test the words, taste them, before he could speak them. And to his own delight he found the words were very delicious, so he spoke them again and again, dripping with malice.

"Get out! Get out! _Out! Out! Out!_ GET OUT!"

"Fine, I'm leaving!" Anderson shouted, glaring at Maxwell. "But just so you know, you're going to need more coffee."

Before Maxwell even had the chance to raise an eyebrow in question, his coffee cup was flying towards his face, and he hardly ducked in time before it whizzed above his head. It smashed on the wall behind him, leaving a dripping dark stain on the wall and broken glass shards on the floor. And by time Enrico Maxwell could even throw Anderson a shocked glance, the tall man was gone.

* * *

><p>Maxwell sat next to Anderson on a plane, traveling towards the Protestant country. There was an icy air between them, and the two holy men hardly looked at each other. Anderson was obviously still furious and Maxwell felt slightly defeated.<p>

Anderson had left Maxwell's office and didn't pursue, which left Maxwell to contemplate the situation. Maxwell hated being wrong, and he didn't want to tell Anderson that he agreed with him. The tall man would mock him if he did. So when Maxwell approached the fuming priest less than an hour later, he made it clear that they would offer their help only to humour him. Anderson had shrugged indifferently, as if he had given up. Or perhaps he was just fatigued. Whatever the reason, Maxwell told Anderson that the two of them would head out right away. His immediate call to action seemed to help Anderson's spirits, and he had stopped acting so cold. But that had only lasted a few moments. He had put up that icy barrier once they boarded their plane, and sat staring out the plane window, cramped into the seat. Maxwell would have thought that was funny, but he didn't need Anderson to kill him. The tall priest was rather unpredictable. And moody.

Maxwell had tried to make light conversation, not to be friendly but for his own comfort. He wasn't trying to be friends with Anderson (he hadn't considered the priest his friend for years) but he was afraid Anderson might snap. Under the stress and the pressure, Anderson could probably kill Maxwell without even noticing. His mind was elsewhere. Back at the Vatican perhaps. Still fighting vampires. Helping his colleagues. And watching some of them fall. The death toll had been rising steadily, along with the rate of vampires. Maxwell supposed he should feel worried, but he felt nothing.

Eventually the plane landed, and Maxwell almost felt cursed as it did. He uncrossed his legs and looked at Anderson, who was staring at him, an impatient expression on his face. _Move_, that expression said. And Maxwell did just that.

It was an unpleasant journey to the Hellsing Manor, and reaching their destination was also unpleasant. The depressing building loomed over them, and Maxwell felt almost intimidated by it. He didn't know why. He had been here before, he was familiar with the abandoned feel of the place, but somehow it felt… dead.

"So," Maxwell said and cleared his throat. "I suppose you should knock." He didn't look at Anderson and he didn't have to look to know that the priest was glaring at him. But Anderson knocked, and the sound was oddly sinister. Maxwell felt like a child, a child visiting that old scary house at the end of the street, and he felt a childish fear as Anderson knocked on the door, the fear that instead of nobody answering (_the butler answering_) the door would creak open and they would be greeted (_by the old butler_) with darkness. And then consumed by it.

He told himself this was childish and he had no reason to fear. And then he wondered: If the vampires back home are bad, how are they here?

The door creaked open and Maxwell's breath stopped, caught in his throat. For a moment he could see nobody, and he found himself in a slight panic. He half expected a vampire to open the door, a demon of the butler that once served this place, and he let out a relieved breath as he saw the wrinkled face of the butler. And the butler was very much alive.

A small smile crept onto Anderson's features as he noticed Maxwell's discomfort. Maxwell was afraid, and his fear was making Anderson absolutely gleeful. But he was still so goddamned tired.

"How can I be of your assistance?" Walter, the retainer of the Hellsing Organization, asked in a polite tone. There was no way to hide the stress in his voice.

"Well actually," Maxwell said, a smile creeping onto his lips, "we have come to assist you."

* * *

><p>Walter had escorted the Catholics into the drawing room and served them Earl Grey tea. He offered them food, but Maxwell politely declined. Anderson had stayed silent.<p>

"I will join you in a moment," Walter said, turning to leave the Catholics. "Then we can talk about your… offer."

Walter made a few rounds about the manor, making sure no vampires were attacking, then entered the drawing room again to find the Catholics facing opposite directions in their chairs, not talking. The air was rather tense.

Walter sat down, a good distance away from them. They both looked overworked. Maxwell had bags under his eyes, darkening that otherwise pale face. He was slouching in his chair, frowning. But perhaps the frown wasn't caused by work. Who knew? Anderson also had tired bags under his eyes, but they were worse than Maxwell's by a long shot. It looked like he was fighting to stay awake, but it didn't seem like it was the exhaustion felt after a long day. A combination of sleep deprivation and physical exertion made it look like Anderson's body was going to fail. It looked like if he slept, he would never wake. And of course, Walter knew how they both felt. And he felt it worse.

Alucard, Seras, Walter, and all their men were out for days at a time, fighting the growing number of ghouls and vampires that were stalking the streets at night. They all recommended Walter should take it easy because he was old, but he'd remind them with a smile that he was still known to some as the Angel of Death. The amount of work they had to do bothered Walter, because if they were all fighting vampires, who was searching for Sir Integra? The police, of course. He had trusted the police with that responsibility again, knowing that nobody within the organization would be available to search.

"So, you say you are able to assist us?" Walter asked, almost timidly. He didn't want to be too straightforward, but he was anxious.

Maxwell took a long sip of tea and set the cup down. "Yes," he answered, feeling superior, "We have decided we will aid you in your search for Sir Integra Hellsing."

Anderson glared at Maxwell but Maxwell didn't look at him.

_Oh _we_ decided, did we?_ Anderson thought, and shook his head.

Walter, with a note of scepticism, asked, "And how will you help?"

"Any way we can," Maxwell answered positively, smiling at Walter. Walter found the grin repulsive.

"Why?" he blurted, unable to stop himself.

Maxwell's grin turned almost evil, and he answered in a vicious voice, "Why? Because both of us are suffering. Both of our organizations are suffering more. I have offered to help because both of us need peace; we need more security than there is now. I suppose we both know that she is still alive. If she wasn't," Maxwell traced the rim of his teacup, "we'd all have bigger problems to worry about. All these vampires our organizations have been fighting since Sir Integra's disappearance will be nothing. Because once she is dead, a certain vampire you and I both know will be free." Anderson perked up at hearing this.

Walter got the urge to protest this, to shout, _Alucard is not like that!_ But he stopped himself. Alucard was a slave. Walter was friends with somebody's servant. And while Integra was a kind Master to Alucard, being a Servant would always be unpleasant. Perhaps Alucard wasn't emotional, perhaps on the inside he was gleeful, maybe he was just waiting, waiting…

Maxwell's voice snapped Walter out of his thoughts.

"What I'm saying is: things can always get worse. There's no guarantee that Sir Integra will be alive for much longer, and once Alucard is free he would be too much for even Anderson to handle." Maxwell looked up at Anderson, grinning. He straightened in his chair, his face close to Anderson's. "Isn't that right?" The grinning Italian man asked.

"Aye," Anderson agreed flatly, reminded of all the times he's lost to Alucard.

"Alucard wouldn't-" Walter refrained from arguing, swallowed, and said, "Alucard isn't our main concern. In fact, all of these vampires are not my main concern either. My only duty is to find Sir Integra and bring her back safely. I would very much appreciate your help."

Maxwell opened his mouth to respond but Anderson spoke before him, "Pardon me for interrupting Maxwell, but it seems like you haven't completely revealed your plans to me. So if you wouldn't mind explaining, I'd like to know how you're planning on sending some of our men here even though we don't have enough to begin with."

Maxwell shot Anderson a hateful glare, feeling a sudden surge of anger towards the tall man for ruining the deal.

Walter cleared his throat, unsure if he should speak his mind. Eventually he did question Maxwell, trying to stop a potential fight.

"And I would like to know what you would like in return for your assistance," the old butler inquired.

Again Maxwell was cut off by Anderson as the priest smiled and said, "We require nothing in return. It's just Catholics values."

"Anderson, what the hell are you talking about?" Maxwell hissed under his breath.

"I'm talking about Catholics values," Anderson said dumbly.

Maxwell's eye twitched and he looked at his feet while drinking some more tea. Walter was not questioning the 'Catholics values,' he was not insisting that they earn some pay for their assistance.

_Selfish bastard_, Maxwell thought.

Anderson was having great fun in making his superior look like an ass.

* * *

><p>After a boring hour of negotiations, everything had been settled. With a gracious smile Walter thanked both of the Catholics. He shook hands with Maxwell, and he could tell Maxwell was revolted by the gesture simply because Walter was a Protestant. Walter ignored his offended feeling and said, "I will escort you out now. I thank you for doing this." Maxwell replied by saying it was no problem, that it was only Catholic values (Anderson frowned at Maxwell's use of his phrase), and ever so politely asked where the restroom was.<p>

"We shall wait for you by the door," Walter said after escorting Maxwell to the nearest bathroom.

Walter and Anderson walked in silence, Walter in the lead. They had almost made it to the front door when Anderson had to say something, perhaps because of his grouchiness or because of the unhappy state Maxwell had put him in.

"It's sad how a grown woman can't protect herself. We have to spare our good men to help..." Anderson's voice trailed off, and he shook his head solemnly. Walter did not react right away, leaving Anderson to believe the old man had not heard him. But that was not so.

A few moments after Anderson had spoken, Walter whirled around with surprising speed, breaking Anderson's nose, then turning back to walk towards the door.

Anderson clutched his nose, which was already starting to regenerate.

"What did you do that for?!" he cried in a surprised voice.

"To teach you a lesson," Walter said simply as he entered the open area by the front door. Anderson was still a few paces behind. "Anyone who insults Sir Integra in front of me needs to be punished."

Anderson looked confused for a moment and then grinned. The old man's back was to him, and he brandished a bayonet in each hand, breaking out in a run at Walter. He stopped abruptly as one of his bayonets fell apart in his hand, a confused expression falling on his face and he tossed the useless weapon aside.

Walter turned to face him, a smug look on his features. "Are you planning on fighting me?"

Anderson nodded and ran at Walter again, swiping at the old man with his other bayonet. Walter stepped back to avoid a blow and grunted as Anderson's weapon tore through his shirt and ripped the flesh of his shoulder.

Anderson slashed another bayonet near Walter's face, and it missed the old man by a hair as Walter leaned back to avoid it. Anderson raised his bayonet, ready to bring it down on the old butler, and Walter blocked the attack, lacing his wires between his fingers and pulling them tight. The bayonet crashed against the wires, the force from the strike driving Walter to skid backwards. Anderson charged at Walter again, and Walter pulled his wires tight once more in another attempt at defence. The bayonet clashed against the wires, and Walter let out a grunt.

"Are you about to give up old man?" Anderson taunted, although his voice was slightly strained.

"Not yet," Walter answered through clenched teeth.

Walter's wires slipped down Anderson's blade with a jerky movement, sliding down to the handle where it severed one of Anderson's fingers. Anderson stepped back, staring at his lost digit for a moment, then let out a snarl and continued slashing at Walter.

Moving with unnatural speed, Walter slipped past Anderson, kicking the tall priest's feet out from under him. Walter's wires wrapped around Anderson's arm, and he pulled on the wires gently, whirling Anderson around as he struggled to remain standing.

Anderson regained his footing with a sneer, and Walter's wires wrapped around the man's legs. Anderson tried to take a step and plummeted to his knees with a crunch.

The tall priest looked up at Walter hatefully, trying with his free arm to stab Walter. The old man's wires tugged Anderson's arm behind his back, then tangled around his neck.

Anderson let out a spluttering growl as the wire tightened around his neck, and he knew that a simple jerk would sever his head from his body.

"Wha… What's going on?!"

Walter turned his head quickly; looking like a child caught stealing from a cookie jar. Then his expression neutralized and the wires around Anderson loosened.

"My apologies," the old butler said to Enrico Maxwell.

"We come all this way to make negotiations with you in a time of crisis and you repay us by doing this!" Maxwell hissed, gesturing to Anderson, who was getting up off his knees.

"I do apologize, but if you would like to prevent further conflict, I suggest that you teach your subordinate a lesson or two in manners," Walter said.

Maxwell's eye twitched and he glared up at Anderson when the tall man returned to his side. Maxwell turned to leave, saying over his shoulder, "I will send over my men as soon as possible."

"Thank you, I do appreciate it," Walter said, closing the door after the Catholics left.

Walter smiled, hearing Maxwell scolding Anderson for fighting, and lecturing him on losing to a Protestant. Anderson didn't try to defend himself against his boss, a mixture of shame and exhaustion didn't leave much fight left in the man.

"Good job Angel of Death."

Walter jumped as he heard the voice. "Alucard don't sneak up on me like that!"

Alucard chuckled, ignoring Walter. "You told me to keep myself under control, to avoid fighting. And yet you do that very thing. How… hypocritical."

"He insulted Sir Integra," Walter defended.

Alucard frowned at the mention of his Master's name.

"Any news from the police yet?" the vampire asked.

"No, nothing yet. I'm hoping we hear something soon."

"I doubt it," Alucard said darkly. "We may never get her back." And with that statement, Alucard turned and left.

* * *

><p><strong>It's been a long time since an update. We all owe that to my laziness and my sudden interest in computer solitaire. Anyways, this isn't my best chapter, but I recently had to put my dog to sleep, so while I was grieving I decided to write and this is what came out of it. I hope you enjoyed. <strong>


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